Every Time I'm In The Woods, I

The Truth Is A Rabbit In A Bramble Patch. All You Can Do Is Circle Around And Say It's Somewhere In There.

My Mother Playing The Violin And My Father And Grandfather Playing The Piano, Classical Stuff.

A Song Is Like A Picture Of A Bird In Flight; The Bird Was Moving Before The Picture Was Taken, And No Doubt Continued After.

My Mother Wanted Me To Learn How To Read Music. She'd Given Fiddles To My Two Older Brothers, But They'd Rebelled. I Came Along And My Father Said, "oh, Let Peter Enjoy Himself." What She Did Was Leave Musical Instruments All Around The House. Whistles, Marimbas, Squeeze Boxes, A Piano And Organ. By Age Six Or Seven, I Could Bang Out A Simple Tune On Almost Anything. I Developed A Good Ear, So I Didn't Learn To Read Music Until I Taught Myself At Age Eighteen, 'cause I Was Hearing So Many Good Songs I Couldn't Possibly Remember Them All.

I'm Not Sure If My Involvement In Causes, Benefits, Marches, And Demonstrations Has Made A Huge Difference, But I Know One Thing: That Involvement Has Connected Me With The Good People: People With The Live Hearts, The Live Eyes, The Live Heads.