I Read On The Road In Maybe

There's No Black And White, Left And Right To Me Anymore; There's Only Up And Down And Down Is Very Close To The Ground. And I'm Trying To Go Up Without Thinking About Anything Trivial Such As Politics. They Have Got Nothing To Do With It. I'm Thinking About The General People And When They Get Hurt.

I Was Born A Long Way From Where I Belong And I Am On My Way Home.

Take Me Disappearing, Through The Smoke Rings Of My Mind, Down The Foggy Ruins Of Time.

I Consider Myself A Poet First And A Musician Second. I Live Like A Poet And I'll Die Like A Poet.

When You Asked Me How I Was Doing, Was That Some Kind Of Joke