In The Clearing Stands The Boxer, And

A Man Walks Down The Street. It's A Street In A Strange World. Maybe It's The Third World. Maybe It's His First Time Around. He Doesn't Speak The Language. He Holds No Currency. He Is A Foreign Man. He Is Surrounded By The Sound, Sound Of Cattle In The Marketplace, Scatterlings And Orphanages. He Looks Around, Around He Sees Angels In The Architecture Spinning In Infinity And He Says, "amen" And "hallelujah!

Most Of The Time, When I Had Hits As A Soloist - Maybe Not So Much With Simon & Garfunkel - I Was Surprised They Were Hits. I Didn't Know What The Hits Were. I Never Thought That 'loves Me Like A Rock' Was Going To Be A Hit, Or 'mother And Child Reunion,' Or '50 Ways To Leave Your Lover.' They Didn't Sound Like What The Hits Sounded Like At The Time. Radio Was More Open To Things That Weren't Exactly What Every Other Hit Was.

I Just Said, You Know, This Is A Great Track But This Lyric, I Don't Believe It. It Sounds Like I'm Trying To Say Something, Instead Of It Naturally Coming Out Of Me, Like I Was Saying Something That I Already Knew. Anyway, I Can't Remember What It Was. And Either I Threw It All Out Or I Threw 90 Percent Of It Out, And Kept A Line Or Two. That's Happened A Couple Of Times To Me. Not Too Often, But A Couple Of Times. Very Aggravating When It Does Happen.

These Are The Days Of Lasers In The Jungle, Staccato Signals Of Constant Information.

Maybe The Heart Is Part Of The Mist. And That's All That There Is Or Could Ever Exist. Maybe And Maybe And Maybe Some More. Maybe's The Exit That I'm Looking For.