These are the days of the endless summer, these are the days, the time is now. There is no past, there’s only future, there’s only here, there’s only now.
Hark, now hear the sailors cry, smell the sea, and feel the sky let your soul & spirit fly, into the mystic.
You gotta fight every day to keep mediocrity at bay.
Have I told you lately that I love you, have I told you lately there’s no one above you. Fill my heart with gladness, take away all my sadness, ease my troubles, that’s what you do.
Let your soul and spirit fly.
If you live the life you love, you get the blessing from above.
Music is spiritual. The music business is not.
It’s a marvelous night for a moondance!
Once in a blue moon someone like you comes along.
Meet them halfway with love, peace, and persuasion, and expect them to rise for the occasion.
Go up to the mountain, go up to the glen, where silence will touch you, and heartbreak will mend.
In deep confusion, in great despair, when I reach out for him, he is there. When I am lonely as I can be, then I know God shines his light on me.
When it’s not always raining there’ll be days like this. When there’s no one complaining there’ll be days like this. When everything falls into place like the flick of a switch. Well my mama told me there’ll be days like this.
Smell the sea and feel the sky.
Let go into the mystery
Let yourself go
You’ve got to open up your heart
That’s all I know
Trust what I say and do what you’re told
Baby, and all your dirt will turn
Into gold.
A fantabulous night to make romance.
The fog of illusion, the fog of confusion is hanging all over the world.
When you hear the music ringin’ in your soul
And you feel it in your heart and it grows and grows
And it comes from the backstreet rock & roll and the healing has begun…
If my heart could do my thinking, would my brain begin to feel?
The blues – there’s no black and white – it’s the truth.
Memories, how they linger in the twilight and in the wee small hours sometimes just before dawn.
I had my eyes closed in the dark, I sighed a million sighs, I told a million lies, to myself, to myself.
Love of the simple is all that I need, I’ve no time for schism or lovers of greed.
The wild night is calling.
There’s always stress involved in any genre or art form, there’s always going to be a struggle. If there’s no struggle, you wouldn’t do anything. What are you going do? Retire?
