The Wall

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“What a dear old wall that is that runs along by the river there! I never pass it without feeling better for the sight of it. Such a mellow, bright, sweet old wall; what a charming picture it would make, with the lichen creeping here, and the moss growing there, a shy young vine peeping over the top at this spot, to see what is going on upon the busy river, and the sober old ivy clustering a little farther down! There are fifty shades and tints and hues in every ten yards of that old wall. . . . It looks so peaceful and so quiet, and it is such a dear old place to ramble round in the early morning before many people are about.” Jerome K. Jerome, “Three Men In A Boat (To Say Nothing of the Dog)” Ch. 6 (1889)

"More Than Fine"

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by Switchfoot

When I wake in the morning,
I want to blow into pieces.
I want more than just ok, more than just ok.
When I'm up with the sunrise
I want more than just blue skies.
I want more than just ok, more than just ok.

I'm not giving up, giving up, not giving up now.
I'm not giving up, giving up, not backing down.

More than fine, more than bent on getting by.
More than fine, more than just ok.

When I'm wet with the sunshine.
I want more than just a good time.
I want more than just ok, more than just ok.

I'm not giving up, giving up, not giving up now.
I'm not giving up, giving up, not selling out.

More than fine, more than bent on getting by.
More than fine, more than just ok.
More than fine, more than bent on getting by.
More than fine, more than just ok.

More than oceans away from the dawn.
More than oceans away from the dawn.
More than oceans away from who we are
More than oceans, more than oceans, yeah.

More than fine, more than bent on getting by.
More than fine, more than just ok.
More than fine, more than bent on getting by.
More than fine, more than just ok.

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