“So what is love then is it dictated or chosen (handed down and made by hand)Does it sing like the hymns of a thousand yearsOr is it just pop emotion (handed down and made by hand)And if it ever was there and it leftDoes it mean it was never trueAnd to exist it must eludeIs that why I think these things of you?”

“I'm made mute by the virtue of decisionAnd I choose most of your life goes on without meOh the fear I've knownThat I might reap the praise of strangers and end up on my ownAll I've sown was a songBut maybe I was wrong”

“So what is love then is it dictated or chosen (handed down and made by hand)Does it sing like the hymns of a thousand yearsOr is it just pop emotion (handed down and made by hand)And if it ever was there and it leftDoes it mean it was never trueAnd to exist it must eludeIs that why I think these things of you?”

“I could go crazy on a night like tonightWhen summer's beginning to give up her fightAnd every thought's a possiblilityAnd the voices are heard but nothing is seenWhy do you spend this time with meMaybe an equal mystery”

“You set up your place in my thoughts, moved in and made my thinking crowded.”

“I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains I looked to the children, I drank from the fountain There’s more than one answer to these questions pointing me in a crooked line And the less I seek my source for some definitive The closer I am to fine.”