You know, I’m a modern day Harry Belafonte; I got the swagger of the island.
Gleason used to rack balls for me when he was a kid in Brooklyn and in Long Island.
Perhaps the palms had been whispering warnings in the sultry breeze.
Every man is an island, and every heart seeks the ferry to cross the main…
A good leader will seek the wisdom of others. After all, no man is an island!
Give us this day our daily Faith, but deliver us, dear God, from Belief.
Best wine if you’re stranded on a deserted island? 1982 Salon Champagne.
The island is ours. Here, in some way, we are young forever.