Jewels And Binoculars Hang From The Head

And There's No One There To Dry Your Tears. I Could Hold You For A Million Years. To Make You Feel My Love.

There's A Whole Lot Of People In Trouble Tonight From The Disease Of Conceit Whole Lot Of People Seeing Double Tonight From The Disease Of Conceit Give Ya Delusions Of Grandeur And A Evil Eye Give You The Idea That You're Too Good To Die Then They Bury You From Your Head To Your Feet From The Disease Of Conceit

As He Weeps To Wicked Birds Of Prey, Who Pick Up On His Bread Crumb Sins, And There Are No Sins Inside The Gates Of Eden.

With Your Silhouette When The Sunlight Dims Into Your Eyes Where The Moonlight Swims, And Your Match-book Songs And Your Gypsy Hymns, Who Among Them Would Try To Impress You? -bob Dylan, "sad-eyed Lady Of The Lowlands” (1966)

You Better Start Swimming, Or You'll Sink Like A Stone. Because The Time's They Are A-changing.