Locked in your own room, trying to bring some song alive, and you're kicking around those styles. Your work seems at least to be a reflection, and genuinely, of all the good, good work you've been doing at home and all the songs sung in your head.

Now locked in your groove, touring out with your best work, and you're racking up those miles. You see opportunities, I'm reminded of prioritie-- deconstructed, passed over, dismantled and quickly thrown away.

And then they'll say...

There'll be other entertainers who can play tighter than that, who could drive such a bigger van. There'll be other entertainers, who will deliver where it matters, who the press will surely flatter, who will leave you just a fan base, hoping.

So as I stare down the passage, aisling through a course unknown, I know how easy on can tire. Who's got time for judgement when I'd like to invite you now and then to consider where we gave from, consider who arrive, and the consider five years on.

Still some say...