“I’m november numb and I think the world is, too.”

In a world of lost souls how could I ever find a home?

Summer left me like an almost lover.

If I make him my home, will I lose the home inside myself?

Every drop of her gin held a lost world of night sky dances.

I feel blurry as a reflection in water.

Kiss the words from my lips like a love poem.

One thing that makes me prefer people over books is shared laughter.

The way she danced through life was poetry.

We fell in love because we were both summer souls.

Summer was soaked with you.

I fell in love with the way you wanted more.

Let’s go back when we still saw stories in the stars.

Give me love like summer rain.

This wild heart beats restlessness.

I search for summer in every corner of september.

A lover should be two things at once: the wild and a home.

When I retired from my music November 1997, it had been 37 years.

November is Hip-Hop History Month, where we give celebration to what hip hop has done to bring together people of the world, people of all nationalities, young people, all the political systems and politicians on the planet.

It is the thirtieth of May, the thirtieth of November, a beginning or an end, we are moving into the solstice and there is so much here I still do not understand.

When chill November’s surly blast Made fields and forests bare.