I spend too little time on myself
It's all just work and no play
I spend too many hours on planes
Thanks for listening to my complaints
I'd like to give you the best of me
But there's always something in between
Hurts to see you in that state
Hurts to be in my place
She Loves Me
WHO?
Mr. Bojangles
Without Your Love
Not There
Defender
Satan
Connected
She Loves Me
Oh Lord
Where Were You
How Come Your Arms Are Not Around Me
Who
You Don´t Know How Good You Are
Oh, Lord
Idiot Talk
Go, Went, Gone
Poor Young Men´s Heart
This Surely Aint My Home
Douglas Furtree