A Song Is Anything That Can Walk

Clowns To The Left Of Me, Jokers To The Right, Here I Am.

Night Can Swallow You Up, Yet None Of It Touches You. Around Any Corner, There's A Promise Of Something Daring And Ideal And Things Are Just Getting Going. There's Something Obscenely Joyful Behind Every Door, Either That Or Somebody Crying With Their Head In In Their Hands. A Lazy Rhythm Looms In The Dreamy Air And The Atmosphere Pulsates With Bygone Duels, Past-life Romance, Comrades Requesting Comrades To Aid Them In Some Way. You Can't See It, But You Know It's There

Every Singer Has Three Or Four Or Five Techniques, And You Can Force Them Together In Different Combinations. Some Of The Techniques You Discard Along The Way, And Pick Up Others. But You Do Need Them. It's Just Like Anything. You Have To Know Certain Things About What You're Doing That Other People Don't Know. Singing Has To Do With Techniques And How Many You Use At The Same Time. One Alone Doesn't Work. There's No Point To Going Over Three. But You Might Interchange Them Whenever You Feel Like It. It's A Bit Like Alchemy.

I Don't Know If I Call Myself A Poet Or Not. I Would Like To, But I'm Not Really Qualified To Make That Decision, Because I Come In On Such A Back Door, That I Don't Know What A Robert Frost Or A [john] Keats Or A T.s. Eliot Would Really Think Of My Stuff.

I Forgot More Than You'll Ever Know.