I Won't Take My Religion From Any

Under The Harvest Moon, When The Soft Silver Drips Shimmering Over The Garden Nights, Death, The Gray Mocker, Comes And Whispers To You As A Beautiful Friend Who Remembers.

To Work Hard, To Live Hard, To Die Hard, And Then Go To Hell After All Would Be Too Damned Hard.

Tongues Wrangled Dark At A Man. He Buttoned His Overcoat And Stood Alone. In A Snowstorm, Red Hollyberries, Thoughts, He Stood Alone.

Now Is The Time. It Is Never Too Late To Start Something.

The Drum In A Dream Pounds Loud To The Dreamer.