There Are Thousands Of Wines That Can

A Craftsman Pulled A Reed From The Reedbed, Cut Holes In It, And Called It A Human Being. Since Then, It's Been Wailing A Tender Agony Of Parting, Never Mentioning The Skill That Gave It Life As A Flute

I Didn't Come Here Of My Own Accord, And I Can't Leave That Way. Whoever Brought Me Here Will Have To Take Me Home.

If The Beautiful One Is Not Inside You, Then What Is That Light Hidden Under Your Cloak?

You’re A Song, A Wished-for Song.

Explanation By The Tongue Makes Most Things Clear, But Love Unexplained Is Clearer.