Death To Me Means Nothing As Long

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

Whatever That ["transfiguration" By Bob Dylan] Means, It's True That The Poetic Brilliance Of The Early Career Would Never Really Reappear.

Crimson Flames Tied Through My Ears Rollin' High And Mighty Traps Pounced With Fire On Flaming Roads Using Ideas As My Maps "we'll Meet On Edges, Soon," Said I Proud 'neath Heated Brow. Ah, But I Was So Much Older Then, I'm Younger Than That Now. Half-wracked Prejudice Leaped Forth "rip Down All Hate," I Screamed Lies That Life Is Black And White Spoke From My Skull. I Dreamed Romantic Facts Of Musketeers Foundationed Deep, Somehow. Ah, But I Was So Much Older Then, I'm Younger Than That Now.

I Wanted To Understand Things And Then Be Free Of Them. I Needed To Learn How To Telescope Things, Ideas. Things Were Too Big To See All At Once, Like All The Books In The Library-everything Laying Around On All The Tables. You Might Be Able To Put It All Into One Paragraph Or Into One Verse Of A Song If You Could Get It Right.

My Favorite Politician Was Arizona Senator Barry Goldwater, Who Reminded Me Of Tom Mix, And There Wasn't Any Way To Explain That To Anybody.