The Liahona was given to guide Lehi and his children, but it came after years in the desert, not when they were still in Jerusalem.
“That’s how it goes. We all do that.”
“You all write songs about each other?”
“No, but…”
It would take too long to explain about Marco and Charlie, and how they wrote Sarah, and how Sarah and her ex, the one who wanted to be someone at the BBC, how they wrote me, and how Rosie the pain-in-the-arse simultaneous orgasm girl and I wrote Ian. It’s just that none of us had the wit or the talent to make them into songs. We made them into life, which is much messier, and more time-consuming, and leaves nothing for anybody to whistle.