Oh say, can you see, it’s really such a mess. Every inch of earth is a fighting nest. Giant pencial and lipstick tube shaped things, continue to rain and cause scream and pain, and the arctic stains from silver blue to bloody red.
There was a period when I stopped talking so much, because I was just going through certain things. I just did the gigs and just stayed in, tried to stay away.
The dollar bill is God in the States. All those Pelican people just believe in money and nothing else.
Room Full Of Mirrors, that’s more of a mental disarrangement. This says something about broken glass used to be all in my brain.
In order to change the world, I guess a person would have to really get his head together first before he can say anything to the world, to change it.
Sometimes music comes across to me just when I am sitting around doing nothing, and then the music makes me think of a few words I might have written.
I wanted to be listened to. I don’t know if they were or not, though.
I guess it would be if I wanted to, just lay back and predominantly write songs when I can’t go on a stage anymore.
Promotion with my name only, that’s all I have to do with it.
It’s really hard to know what people want around here sometimes.
Sometimes I do a Dylan song and it seems to fit me so right that I figure maybe I wrote it. Dylan didn’t always do it for me as a singer, not in the early days, but then I started listening to the lyrics. That sold me.
I love Dylan. I only met him once, about three years ago, back at the Kettle of Fish on MacDougal Street. That was before I went to England. I think both of us were pretty drunk at the time, so he probably doesn’t remember it.
Manic depression’s touching my soul. I know what I want, but I just don’t know how to go about getting it.
I think that we honor ourselves by honoring our past.
Don’t use your brain to play it, let your feelings guide your fingers.
We take our last look at the killing noise.
The one that rambles for a million miles, yes, I walk down this road searching for your love.
Have you ever experienced? Not necessarily stoned, but beautiful.
If my baby don’t love me no more, I know her sister will.
I use to live in a room full of mirrors, all I could see was me.