A Poem Is A Naked Person.

It's Always Disappointing When People Decide For One Reason Or Another That They Don't Like Your Work Anymore, But You Can't Try To Please People, Because Then You're Just Going To Be Doing - You'll Never Live It Down, Y'know It'll Always Be Dogging You Around - You Might Be Being A Fake About The Whole Thing.

People Today Are Still Living Off The Table Scraps Of The Sixties. They Are Still Being Passed Around - The Music And The Ideas.

Too Much Of Nothing Can Turn A Man Into A Liar. It Can Cause One Man To Sleep On Nails And Another To Eat Fire.

To Preach Of Peace And Brotherhood, Oh What Might Be The Cost? A Man He Did It Long Ago, And They Hung Him On A Cross.

The Hollow Horn Plays Wasted Words, Proves To Warn That He Not Busy Being Born Is Busy Dying.