I Listened To Them Fade Away Till

What The Chronics Are - Or Most Of Us - Are Machines With Flaws Inside That Can't Be Repaired, Flaws Born In, Or Flaws Beat In Over So Many Years Of The Guy Running Head-on Into Solid Things That By The Time The Hospital Found Him He Was Bleeding Rust In Some Vacant Lot.

Billy Here Has Been Talkin' About Slicin' His Wrists Again, So Is There Seven Of You Guys Who'd Like To Join Him And Make It Therapeutic?

I Sometimes Have These Spells Of Compulsive Truth. But As Lady Macbeth Would Say, "the Fit Is Momentary."

When You're Around The Whole Dead Scene, They're There As A Tribal Thing; They're There As Part Of A Rendezvous And A Pow-wow.

Since We Don't Know Where We're Going, We Have To Stick Together In Case Someone Gets There.