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A Pickaxe Made of Questions

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"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

 

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"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

 

 

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