Jackson Browne wrote “For A Dancer” in memory of a modern dancer friend who died tragically in a fire. When Jackson’s wife, the model Phyllis Major, died suddenly in 1976, “For A Dancer” mysteriously took on a new meaning. “That’s how songs work,” Brown said in an interview. “They migrate into other parts of your life and other experiences.”

Browne eventually played the song at the funerals of two other celebrity friends. And if one listens to the lyrics closely, “For A Dancer” becomes a larger commentary on the intransience of life itself. We cling to it like a thread.

To me, the larger meaning underscores the necessity of using every precious moment wisely. Here’s my cover.

• (00:00:12) - A Dance for the Dead

Jackson Browne's guitar techniques, lyrics, and melodies stand apart from the crowd. What he says through his music is sometimes searing, sad, and occasionally, happy. However, all of Browne's songs have something in common: an incredible sensitivity and beauty.

Browne wrote "These Days" when he was only sixteen years old. Despite his youth, Browne demonstrated a keen sense of heartbreak. I'm not sure how a sixteen-year-old could feel the depth of emotion and remorse expressed in this song. If we assume Jackson experienced and gave voice to the words and tone of "These Days," then he was wise beyond his years and deeply rooted in himself from early on.

The song had its first release when a protégé of Andy Warhol named Nico picked it up on her "Chelsea Girl" album. Brown played acoustic guitar in the background. "These Days" gained wider recognition when several artists subsequently covered it.

Brown eventually released his version of the song in 1973 on the album "For Everyman." He rewrote "These Days" to make it more optimistic. In his own words, Jackson remembers, "Over the rest of my teenage years and into my 20s, I developed a kind of optimism, a kind of resoluteness, so I changed [one verse] to: 'I'll keep on moving, keep improving.' That's more to me what life is made of, the idea that I'll get through this, I'll continue looking."

I've always wanted to play this song the way Jackson Browne does. Thanks to my friend Jerry Lambert, I can now do it. Here's my cover.

I first heard "Cornflower Blue" as the opening song on Kate Wolf's 1983 double album "Give Yourself to Love." As I listened to the album many times over, "Cornflower Blue" grew on me (no pun intended). I began to appreciate the exquisite beauty in the lyrics and in Kate's lovely singing voice.

Oftentimes, songs like this one will find their way into my heart, and I feel compelled to play them myself. With this song, I had my doubts. The chances were good that I might not pull it off.

Learning how to play "Cornflower Blue" like Kate does was like learning how to walk again. The style is completely counterintuitive to what I'm used to, but I'm glad I made the effort. I hope my cover of the song conveys some of the mystery and beauty of the original.