My Beard Grows Down To My Toes,

I Opened My Eyes And Looked Up At The Rain, And It Dripped In My Head And Flowed Into My Brain, And All That I Hear As I Lie In My Bed Is The Slishity-slosh Of The Rain In My Head. I Step Very Softly, I Walk Very Slow, I Can't Do A Handstand-- I Might Overflow, So Pardon The Wild Crazy Thing I Just Said-- I'm Just Not The Same Since There's Rain In My Head.

I Myself Do Not Believe In Explaining Anything.

At Night My Mind Does Not Much Care If What It Thinks Is Here Or There. It Tells Me Stories, It Invents And Makes Up Things That Don't Make Sense. I Do Not Know Why It Does This Stuff. The Real World Seems Quite Weird Enough.

I Am Writing These Poems From Inside A Lion.

Don't Be Dependent On Anyone Else. I Want To Go Everywhere, Look At, And Listen To Everything. You Can Go Crazy With Some Of The Wonderful Stuff There Is In Life.