It's A Folk Singer's Job To Comfort

Take It Easy, But Take It.

The World Is Filled With People Who Are No Longer Needed. And Who Try To Make Slaves Of All Of Us. And They Have Their Music And We Have Ours. Theirs, The Wasted Songs Of A Superstitious Nightmare. And Without Their Music And Ideological Miscarriages To Compare Our Songs Of Freedom To, We'd Not Have Any Opposite To Compare Music With - - And Like The Drifting Wind, Hitting Against No Obstacle, We'd Never Know Its Speed, Its Power.

Anyone Who Used More Than Three Chords Is Just Showing Off.

Love Is The Only Medicine I Believe In.

It's Round The World I've Traveled; It's Round The World I've Roamed; But I've Yet To See An Outlaw Drive A Family From Its Home