...you're a rare rare find A troubled cure For a troubled mind
Do you like what you're doing/would you do it some more/or will you stop once and wonder what you're doing it for?
Time has told me not to ask for more, someday our ocean will find its shore.
I woke early like a condemned man to the naivety of birdsong.
And see she flies, and she is everywhere.
Fame is but a fruit tree- so very unsound. It can never flourish 'till its stock is in the ground.