Everybody Knows The Dice Are Loaded.

You Can Say That I've Grown Bitter But Of This You Can Be Sure. The Rich Have Get Their Channels In The Bedrooms Of The Poor. And There's A Mighty Judgement Coming But I May Be Wrong.

This Is Every Musician's Dream, To Stand In Front Of An Audience And Not Have To Prove Your Credentials.

Dance Me To Your Beauty With A Burning Violin Dance Me Through The Panic 'til I'm Gathered Safely In Lift Me Like An Olive Branch And Be My Homeward Dove Dance Me To The End Of Love

To The Men And Women Who Own Men And Women Those Of Us Meant To Be Lovers We Will Not Pardon You For Wasting Our Bodies And Time

The Cutting Of The Gem Has To Be Finished Before You Can See Whether It Shines.