This Morning I Deleted The Hyphen From

Your Dollar Is Your Only Word, / The Wrath Of It Your Only Fear. / You Build It Altars Tall Enough / To Make You See, But Your Are Blind; / You Cannot Leave It Long Enough / To Look Before You Or Behind.

For Through It All--above, Beyond It All-- I Know The Far-sent Message Of The Years, I Feel The Coming Glory Of The Light.

Do You Hear The Children Singing?

Youth Sees Too Far To See How Near It Is To Seeing Farther.

No Matter What We Are, And What We Sing, Time Finds A Withered Leaf In Every Laurel