I'm Kind Of Hooked To The Game

The Spectator Is A Dying Animal.

The Best Songs Come Unasked For. You Don't Have To Think About Them . . . Summer Is Good For Songs. When It's Real Warm, If You Have A Sense Of Freedom, Not A Lot On Your Mind, And A Feeling There's Plenty Of Time, It Just Seems To Be A Good Climate For Music.

It's Like Gambling Somehow. You Go Out For A Night Of Drinking And You Don't Know Where Your Going To End Up The Next Day. It Could Work Out Good Or It Could Be Disastrous. It's Like The Throw Of The Dice.

There Are Things Known And Things Unknown And In Between Are The Doors.

Tell Them You Came, And Saw, And Looked Into My Eyes And Saw The Shadow Of The Guard Receding. Thoughts In Time And Out Of Season, The Hitchinker Stood By The Side Of The Road And Levelled His Thumb In The Calm Calculus Of Reason. [...] Why Does My Mind Circle Around You? Why Do Planets Wonder What It Would Be Like To Be You? All Your Soft Wild Promises Were Words, Birds, Endlessly In Flight.