I Think A Poet Is Anybody Who

They're Selling Postcards Of The Hanging.

Well, The Moral Of The Story, The Moral Of This Song, Is Simply That One Should Never Be Where One Does Not Belong. So When You See Your Neighbor Carryin' Somethin', Help Him With His Load, And Don't Go Mistaking Paradise For That Home Across The Road.

In The Dime Stores And Bus Stations, People Talk Of Situations, Read Books, Repeat Quotations, Draw Conclusions On The Wall.

When The Jelly Faced Women All Sneeze, Hear The One With The Mustache Say I Can't Find My Knees.

You Have To Work Out Where Your Place Is. And Who You Are. But We're All Spirit. That's All We Are, We're Just Walking Dressed Up In A Suit Of Skin, And We're Going To Leave That Behind.