How many victims must that be? Slaughtered in vain across the land,And how many strugles must that be?Before we choose to live the profits planEverybody sing- Every day create your History,Every path you take you’re leaving your legacyEvery soldier dies in his gloryEvery legend tells of conquest and liberty.

People ask me how I make music. I tell them I just step into it. It’s like stepping into a river and joining the flow. Every moment in the river has its song.

Each song is a child I nourish and give my love to. But even if you have never written a song, your life is a song. How can it not be?

What do you think has become of the young and old men? And what do you think has become of the women and children? They are alive and well somewhere, The smallest sprout shows there is really no death, And if ever there was it led forward life, and does not wait at the end...

There is a place where the sidewalk endsAnd before the street begins,And there the grass grows soft and white,And there the sun burns crimson bright,And there the moon-bird rests from his flightTo cool in the peppermint wind.Let us leave this place where the smoke blows blackAnd the dark street winds and bends.Past the pits where...

To make a song is a gift, and once it’s done it keeps evolving and changing and becomes a tool to interact with other people. It’s like a conversation.

Prepare a noble death song for the day when you go over the great divide.

The sky is full of dreams, but you don’t know how to fly.

This world has need of song and sword.

Although it was only a single instrument, each note had the peculiar echoed quality of a thousand harmonics voiced together. There was a whisper behind the strongest note and a shout beneath the softest, and they sang of far off places in long forgotten times. There were no words, but the images of ancient pride,...

I definitely don’t sit down every day and make a new song.

If my life were a song the title would be ‘The Comeback Kid.’

Forest deep, silent bellsThere’s a secret no one tellsValley quiet, water stillLynburns watching on the hillApples red, corn goldAlmost everyone grows old

Sparrows and cats will live in my shoe,Sooner than I will live with you.Fish will come walking out of the sea,Sooner than you will come back to me.

I understand that transposing a song a half step can effect the believability of a lyric.

When I play live, it’s a conversation that we’re all having with the song, and the audience… their response and relationship with the songs is as valid as my relationship with the songs.

Music is a total constant. That’s why we have such a strong visceral connection to it, you know? Because a song can take you back instantly to a moment, or a place, or even a person. No matter what else has changed in you or the world, that one song stays the same, just like...

It’s only when we understand [Jesus’] presence in the church as being the fulfillment of God’s promise in Zephaniah 3:17 to “quiet you with his love” and “rejoice over you with singing” that a crucial aspect of our salvation comes into perspective. Jesus didn’t coldly settle accounts for us. He doesn’t bark us into improving...

If I cannot fly, let me sing.

As long as I can be with you, even my digital heart will start to throb. Like a quantum wind, my heart will start to sway.

A sound interrupted him; a frail quivering sound, a voice bubbling up without direction, vigour, beginning or end, running weakly and shrilly and with an absence of all human meaning intoee um fah sofoo swee too eem oo–the voice of no age or sex, the voice of an ancient spring spouting from the earth; which...

In so far as I have any beliefs, I suppose I’m like that old Peggy Lee song, ‘Is That All There Is?’ I want to believe there’s something else going on, but what that something else is I don’t pretend to know.

kisses explode when… someone believes in me when my heart cries out a song of thanks to yours.

I always like a good song: puts me in a good mood.

All You Need Is Love” in homage to their memory.

A tapping foot isn’t the best a listener can get from a song: A good song makes a listener dance. A great song makes him think.

Touch my song with your lips, make it immortal,be my beloved, make my love immortal.No restriction of age, not the bond of lives,when someone love should see only the soul,by carving new trend, make the trend immortal.Loneliness of the sky is in my lone heart,with rattleing paayal enter into my life,by giving own breaths make...

You never know until a song comes out and becomes what it becomes, obviously you can’t predict how the masses will react.

You held me down, but I got upHey!Alrighty brushing off the dust You hear my voice You hear that soundLike thunder gonna shake the ground-Roar

When someone asks me what a song is about, it’s like, I feel like I might ruin it if you ask me that. I feel like I did my best to explain the song in the song on its own terms as a song.

If my life was a song the title would be ‘Naima’.

Miss Mary Mack, Mack, Mack, all dressed in black, black, black. She has a knife, knife, knife, stuck in her back, back, back. She cannot breathe, breathe, breathe. She cannot cry, cry, cry. Thats why she begs, begs, begs. She begs to die, die ,die..

A future as lonely as the surface of the moon and still just the sight of him feels like a homecoming, like a song I used to know but forgot.

Sir, don’t make a bigger fool out of yourself because I promise you, if my car is not here when I leave service today . . . just pray for rapture.

I will be very grateful that I get to go out and play a song and get well paid for it.

If only, if only, the woodpecker sighs, The bark on the tree was just a little bit softer.While the wolf waits below, hungry and lonely, He cries to the moo-oo-oon, If only, if only.

The hardest song to write is a protest song, a topical song with meaning.

Hold on little girlShow me what he’s done to youStand up little girlA broken heart can’t be that badWhen it’s through, it’s through Fate will twist the both of you So come on baby come on over Let me be the one to show you

Why be alone when we can be together babyYou can make my life worthwhileAnd I can make you start to smile

When you write an album and you’re writing about relationships, the stuff that I’ve been through in my relationships, 99 percent of it is really good, but it’s that one percent that always inspires you to write a song.

When I’m writing a song, I’m just making stuff up as I go along.

Sometimes I do ‘So Desperate’ solo in the middle of the set. I really love to sing that song.

As a songwriter you have an umbilical cord to the song and it’s hard to expand on your understanding of the lyrics. Whereas when you cover a song you can create your own reason why you’re attached to it.

Tears flood in youyour eyes burningyour heart scars with my name scratched deepMy face is gonemy heart betrayed by your lullabiesI’m a shadow of a girl insideHands are touching younothing takes the place of youHeart wrench, weeps goodbyeLullabies, beautiful and trustingBarely breathing as they break into dustLonely corners meSweeps me off my feetShows me it...

Please take a long, hard look at your textbook, cause I’m history

A good river is nature’s life work in song.

Who are you? the band sang. I tried to remember but I really couldn’t say.

I close my eyes and I can see a better day. I close my eyes and pray

Singing the songs, writing the lyrics, emotioning the words; that is all I can do for love.

Take my hand and we’ll make it – I swear