Music can save people, but it can’t in the commercial way it’s being used. It’s just too much. It’s pollution.
Creativity has a lot to do with the main idea. Inspiration is what comes when you are dealing with the idea. But inspiration won’t invite what’s not there to begin with.
You five and ten cent women with nothing in your heads, I got a real gal I’m loving and Lord I’ll love her ’til I’m dead.
Without freedom of speech, I might be in the swamp.
Time is an ocean, but it ends at the shore.
I don’t have the kinds of relationships that are built on any kind of false pretense, not to say that I haven’t. I’ve had just as many as anybody else, but I haven’t had them in a long time.
The pump don’t work cause the vandals took the handle.
You will find God in the church of your choice.
I’m a liberal to a degree, I want everybody to be free. But if you think that I’ll let Barry Goldwater move in next door.
Each one of them suffering from the failures of their day, with strings of guilt they tried hard to guide us.
Inside the museum infinity goes up on trial. Voices echo, ‘This is what salvation must be like after a while.’ But Mona Lisa must have had the highway blues; you can tell by the way she smiles.
You might be a rock and roll addict prancing on the stage. You might have drugs at your command, women in a cage.
The truth is far from you, so you know you got to lie. Then you’re all the time defending what you can never justify.
I wouldn’t even think of playing music if I was born in these times. I wouldn’t even listen to the radio.
I don’t really have a retirement plan.
It’s sundown on the Union and what’s made in the USA, sure was a good idea, until greed got in the way.
And for each unharmful gentle soul misplaced inside a jail...
Mama, put my guns in the ground, I can’t shoot them anymore. That long black cloud is coming down.
Sold my guitar to the baker’s son for a few crumbs and a place to hide.
You’ll find God in the church of your choice, you’ll find Woody Guthrie in the Brooklyn State Hospital.