Ray, What You Got To Do Is

This Was A Manuscript Of The Night We Couldn’t Read.

There Was Nothing To Talk About Anymore. The Only Thing To Do Was Go.

If You Own A Rug You Own Too Much.

The Empty Blue Sky Of Space Says 'all This Comes Back To Me, Then Goes Again, And Comes Back Again, Then Goes Again, And I Don't Care, It Still Belongs To Me

Life Must Be Rich And Full Of Loving--it's No Good Otherwise, No Good At All, For Anyone.