I Was Young For My Age. Not

I Conceived In Art College At The Age Of 20, Near The End Of Term.

Inside Your Own Self Pity There You Swim, In Sinking Down To Drown Her Voice Still Haunts You, And Only With Your Laughter Can You Win.

You Have This Mounting Aggressive Ignorance With The Rabbit's Foot Of Their Particular Religion. You Don't Really Have Any Kind Of Spiritual Law, Just A Kind Of A Rabid Mental Illness. The Songs Are A Little Slice Of Life.

When You're Trying To Pass On The Best Of The Stuff You're Culling To What Should Be A Hungry Culture But You Have It Diminished... That's Kind Of Disappointing.

Woke Up, It Was A Chelsea Morning, And The First Thing That I Knew There Was Milk And Toast And Honey And A Bowl Of Oranges, Too.