Even though my songs may sound very personal, to me most of them are fiction. It is a great way for me to be able to live a fantasy life as a writer because I get to be someone else, someplace else...
In the wee small hours of the morning While the whole wide world is fast asleep You lie awake and think about the girl And never ever think of counting sheep When your lonely heart has learned its...
Rita was sixteen years, hazel eyes and chestnut hair. She made the Woolworth counter shine. Eddie was a sweet romancer and a darn good dancer. They'd waltz the aisles of the five and dime (chorus)...