Everything You Gather Is Just One That

When It Seems Like The Night Will Last Forever, And There's Nothing Left To Do But Count The Years, When The Strings Of My Harp To Sever, And Stones Fall From My Eyes Instead Of Tears... I Will Walk Alone By The Black Muddy River, And Dream Me A Dream Of My Own, I Will Walk Alone By The Black Muddy River, And Sing Me A Song Of My Own.

Everything You Cherish Throws You Over In The End Thorns Will Grab Your Ankles From The Gardens That You Tend.

Poised For Flight, Wings Spread Bright, Spring From Night Into The Sun.

Destroy Yourself Physically And Morally And Insist That All True Brothers Do Likewise As An Expression Of Unity.

Let There Be Songs To Fill The Air.