Songwriters, painters. Artists. Often. Often wonder what they do. Yet don’t care why. As. That is what they do. Others. Don’t understand. It’s a curious dance and conversation, at coffee. ; )

I never knew why I wrote this song. Other than being passed and panned by Columbia and my homeboy’s there. Yet. I was talking to myself. And. I think someone else, years ahead, beyond those youngster years. And saying. Hey. “Watch Out!”