I Drank Coffee And Read Old Books

I Believe I Saw A Woodcock. He Had A Long Bill Like Putting A Fire Hydrant Into A Pencil Sharpener, Then Pasting It Onto A Bird And Letting The Bird Fly Away In Front Of Me With This Thing On Its Face For No Other Purpose Than To Amaze Me.

The Bookstore Was A Parking Lot For Used Graveyards. Thousands Of Graveyards Were Parked In Rows Like Cars. Most Of The Books Were Out Of Print, And No One Wanted To Read Them Any More And The People Who Had Read The Books Had Died Or Forgotten About Them, But Through The Organic Process Of Music The Books Had Become Virgins Again.

I Saw Thousands Of Pumpkins Last Night Come Floating In On The Tide, Bumping Up Against The Rocks And Rolling Up On The Beaches; It Must Be Halloween In The Sea

I Daydream About A High School Where Everybody Plays The Harmonica: The Students, The Teachers, The Principal, The Janitor And The Cook In The Cafeteria.

I’ll Affect You Slowly As If You Were Having A Picnic In A Dream. There Will Be No Ants. It Won’t Rain.