If You See Yourself As A Kingly

And The Seasons They Go 'round And 'round And The Painted Ponies Go Up And Down We're Captive On The Carousel Of Time We Can't Return We Can Only Look Behind From Where We Came And Go Round And Round And Round In The Circle Game.

I Used To Be Monastic, Almost. Now I'm Like A Tibetan That Has Discovered Hamburgers And Television. I'm Catching Up On Americana.

Ira Gershwin, Shame On Him. I Mean, Some Of The Writing.

He's Swept With The Broom Of Contempt And The Rooms Have An Empty Ring.

I Dreamed I Saw The Bombers Riding Shot Gun In The Sky And They Were Turning Into Butterflies Above Our Nation.