When we sing, we can do anything—change the world, bring peace, be our best selves at last. When we sing, our hearts can lift and fly, over the troubled waters and over the years.

I think of the great songs that have carried me along, songs I have sung with you, and for you, all over the world—songs that have carried all of us in rough seas as well as tranquil times, songs that have healed our hearts and kept us going. After all these years, I still believe that music can change the world, and as long as there is music, the dreams will never die.

A classic song has much mystery as well as mastery in its form; it sits still in the mind, throwing light on the past and the future, often bringing tears to our eyes, for it reaches into deep emotional wells that are often forgotten in the rush of the moment. The songs that touch me are on a very high level in terms of form and classic structure, and “Both Sides Now” has all of the requirements to make it irresistible.

I have always had a soft spot for Canadian writers. There is something expansive and yet intimate about their songs, broad as the northwestern plains and as comfortable as having a cup of coffee out on a pinewood porch with a friend. From Ed McCurdy to Gordon Lightfoot and Leonard Cohen, from Joni Mitchell to Ian and Sylvia Tyson, hearing their songs is hearing the truth. And, as the man says, “when you’ve heard the truth, the rest is just cheap whiskey.

Most of what we take as being important is not material, whether it's music or feelings or love. They're things we can't really see or touch. They're not material, but they're vitally important to us.