I Think America Concedes That True American

Saving Was Slow And Painful.

Setting My Mind On A Musical Instrument Was Like Falling In Love. All The World Seemed Bright And Changed.

In The South Of Long Ago Whenever A New Man Appeared For Work In Any Of The Laborers Gangs, He Would Be Asked If He Could Sing. If He Could He Got The Job. The Singing Of These Working Men Set The Rhythm For The Work.

I Hate To See The Evening Sun Go Down.

With A Guitar I Would Be Able To Express The Things I Felt In Sounds.