No longer whistles do I hear
When construction zones I'm walking near...

Every Afternoon at Four
Every afternoon at four o'clock...

Sandstone monuments rise
above the valley floor...

There's a path
that meanders...

I stalk the aisles for a magic potion
A mask, a cream, a wonder lotion...

I sincerely wish the noble crows
had kept their feet to themselves...

I am from the olden days
from common sense...

Thirty-One Days
Innocent...

Bend the knees, lower the butt
To pick up that penny, the only thought...

Angels of death walk these halls
Waiting, waiting in unholy dark...

Tears that flow will never cease
The heart will never mend...

Oh, Glorious Day! I have arrived
and put my old wings in the attic again...