If Youth Is A Defect, It Is

The Scythers, Time And Death, Helmed Locusts, Move Upon The Tree Of Breath

We Are All Old-timers, Each Of Us Holds A Locked Razor.

What Can The Dove Of Jesus Give You Now But Wisdom, Exile? Stand And Live, The Dove Has Brought An Olive Branch To Eat.

In The End, There Is No End.

Once Fishing Was A Rabbit's Foot-- O Wind Blow Cold, O Wind Blow Hot