It Was A Pretty Good Year For

Sometimes Songwriters And Singers Forget That. They Get A Melody In Their Head And The Notes Will Take Precedence, So That They Wind Up Forcing A Word Onto A Melody. It Doesn't Ring True.

Playing The Drums Hurts My Back.

The Government Bugged The Men's Room In The Local Disco Lounge.

The Eagles And The Critics Were Not The Best Of Friends.

So Much Time Weeping And Wailing And Shaking Our Fists, Creating Enemies That Really Don't Exist.