How many ways are there, you ask, How many ways are there, you ask, the tortoise who tries always the tortoise who tries always to move forward even when heavy rocks block your path. Every one of the women you loved might have brought you joy had you known how to turn from the rocks. But what if you went many ways and loose the trail you should have made But what if you went many ways and loose the trail you should have made moving forward even when memories call out your name. Every one of the women you loved might have brought you joy had you known how to turn from the rocks Sometimes only the pressure of your head against them drove them to pace like animals in cages back and forth.