Tissue Paper Trail with Morgan

Walking through the hallway, what do I see? Little white clouds

following me. A trail of tissue paper left on the floor, leading me right

to the studio door. She's painting a picture. She's drawing a

line. Morgan Simpson, she's one of a kind. Oh,

Morgan. The cute way that you speak is the genuine kindness that I

seek. You're an artist. You see what is true and I'm lucky

just to be walking with you. Pack up the car, driving out west.

Looking for a place where we can rest. Rolled into town, the air was