When They Tried To Draft Me, I

Mother, Mother Ocean, I Have Heard You Call. Wanted To Sail Upon Your Waters, Since I Was Three Feet Tall. You've Seen It All, You've Seen It All. Watched The Men Who Rode You, Switch From Sails To Steam. In Your Belly, You Hold The Treasure That Few Have Ever Seen, Most Of Them Dreams, Most Of Them Dreams.

If The Phone Doesn't Ring, It's Me.

Grief Is Like The Wake Behind A Boat. It Starts Out As A Huge Wave That Follows Close Behind You And Is Big Enough To Swamp And Drown You If You Suddenly Stop Moving Forward. But If You Do Keep Moving, The Big Wake Will Eventually Dissipate. And After A Long Time, The Waters Of Your Life Get Calm Again, And That Is When The Memories Of Those Who Have Left Begin To Shine As Bright And As Enduring As The Stars Above.

My Only Contact With The Outside World Was An Rca Victrola, And Elvis Would Sing, And Then I'd Dream About Expensive Cars.

We're Just Recycled History Machines, Cavemen In Faded Blue Jeans.