A Pickaxe Made of Questions
"I got a pickaxe made of questions that I can hardly hold
But I’m afraid if I stop swinging, then I will never find the gold
With a motherlode of answers I might find inside a mine
I would trade them in a second for a single kiss divine."
— Lyrics from 'Kiss Divine', Rob Friedman
"I think I’ll head on up and over to the tourist part of town
They got a brighter sense of wonder than their critics farther down
They do a lot of looking up there with their cameras and their smiles
And we’re all tourists anyway, and only for a while."
-- Lyrics from 'Kiss Divine', Rob Friedman