Ain't It Just Like The Night To

I'm Inconsistent, Even To Myself.

All That Foreign Oil Controlling American Soil.

Through The Mad Mystic Hammering Of The Wild Ripping Hail The Sky Cracked Its Poems In Naked Wonder

The Dirt Of Gossip Blows Into My Face And The Dust Rumors Cover Me. But If The Arrow Is Straight And The Point Is Slick, It Can Pierce Through Dust No Matter How Thick.

Steal A Little And They Throw You In Jail Steal A Lot And They Make You King.