There is a road, no simple highway, between the dawn and the dark of night, and if you go, no one may follow, that path is for your steps alone.

Let there be songs to fill the air.

Without love in a dream it will never come true

Counting stars by candlelight all are dim but one is bright; the spiral light of Venus rising first and shining best, from the northwest corner of a brand-new crescent moon crickets and cicadas sing a rare and different tune.

But I would rather be with you, somewhere in San Francisco on a back porch in July, just looking up to Heaven, at this crescent in the sky

Outside major darkness where the circle is complete there's no fear that lovers born will ever fail to meet

Sometimes we live no particular way but our own