Resident Mockery, Give Us An Hour For

I See Myself As A Huge Fiery Comet, A Shooting Star. Everyone Stops, Points Up And Gasps "oh Look At That!" Then - Whoosh, And I'm Gone... And They'll Never See Anything Like It Ever Again... And They Won't Be Able To Forget Me - Ever.

Give Form To The Passing World. Freeways Are A Drama.

In The Beginning We Were Creating Our Music, Ourselves, Every Night . . . Starting With A Few Outlines, Maybe A Few Words For A Song. Sometimes We Worked Out In Venice, Looking At The Surf. We Were Together A Lot And It Was Good Times For All Of Us. Acid, Sun, Friends, The Ocean, And Poetry And Music.

We Could Plan A Murder Or Start A Religion.

I Am Troubled, Immeasurably By Your Eyes. I Am Struck By The Feather Of Your Soft Reply. The Sound Of Glass Speaks Quick, Disdain And Conceals What Your Eyes Fight To Explain.