Left wing, chicken wing, it don’t make no difference to me.
There’s several ways of saying what’s on your mind. And in states and counties where it ain’t too healthy to talk too loud, speak your mind, or even vote like you want to, folks have found other ways of getting the word around. One of the mainest ways is by singing.
Was a great high wall there that tried to stop me. Was a great big sign there said private Property but on the back side it didn’t say nothing. That side was made for you and me.
Anyone who used more than three chords is just showing off.
One day we’ll all find out that all of our songs was just little notes in a great big song!
The note of hope is the only note that can help us or save us from falling to the bottom of the heap of evolution, because, largely, about all a human being is, anyway, is just a hoping machine.
Love is the only medicine I believe in.
Life has a habit of not staying hitched. You got to ride it like you find it.
I ain’t a communist necessarily, but I been in the red all my life.
You can’t write a good song about a whorehouse unless you’ve been in one.
One bright sunny morning in the shadow of the steeple, by the Relief Office, I saw my people -As they stood hungry, I stood there wondering if God blessed America for me.
I hate a song that makes you think that you are not any good. I hate a song that makes you think that you are just born to lose. Bound to lose. No good to nobody. No good for nothing. Because you are too old or too young or too fat or too slim too ugly or too this or too that.
The words are the important thing. Don’t worry about tunes. Take a tune, sing high when they sing low, sing fast when they sing slow, and you’ve got a new tune.
I better quit my talking ’cause I told you all I know But please remember, pardner, wherever you may go The people are building a peaceful world, and when the job is done, That’ll be the biggest thing that man has ever done.
This land is made for you and me.
A song ain’t nothing but a conversation fixed up to where you can talk it over and over without getting tired of it.
It’s round the world I’ve traveled; it’s round the world I’ve roamed; but I’ve yet to see an outlaw drive a family from its home.
I worked in your orchards of peaches and prunes. I slept on the ground in the light of the moon. On the edge of the city you’ll see us and then, we come with the dust and we go with the wind.
My eyes has been my camera taking pictures of the world and my songs has been my messages that I tried to scatter across the back sides and along the steps of the fire escapes and on the window sills and through the dark halls...
If you want to learn something, just steal it.