I'll Be Selling Tickets For My Next

Advertising Signs: They Con You Into Thinking You're The One That Can Do What's Never Been Done That Can Win What's Never Been Won Meantime Life Outside Goes On All Around You

I Think A Poet Is Anybody Who Wouldn't Call Himself A Poet.

The Sun's Not Yellow, Its Chicken!

Gold Will Never Free Your Father, The Price, My Dear, Is You Instead.

"subterranean Homesick Blues" [of Bob Dylan] Captures, In Word-salad Format, Life In An Encroaching Police State.