If my words did glow, with the gold of sunshine, and my tune
were played on a harp unstrung.  Would you hear my voice, come
through the music, would you hold it near, as it were your own.

It's a hand me down, the thoughts are broken.  Perhaps, they are
better left unsung.  I don't know, don't really care.  Let there be
songs to fill the air.

Ripples in still water, where there is no gentle toss, nor wind
to blow, reach out your hand if your cup be empty.  If your cup
be full, may it be again.
                         Ripples.... The Grateful Dead

Good Bye....Call again..