Swinging On Delicate Hinges The Autumn Leaf

The Only People For Me Are The Mad Ones, The Ones Who Are Mad To Live, Mad To Talk, Mad To Be Saved, Desirous Of Everything At The Same Time, The Ones Who Never Yawn Or Say A Commonplace Thing, But Burn, Burn, Burn Like Fabulous Yellow Roman Candles Exploding Like Spiders Across The Stars.

Don't Tell Them Too Much About Your Soul. They're Waiting For Just That.

Don't Think Of Words When You Stop But To See Picture Better.

Because The Only People For Me Are The Mad Ones.

Ah, It Was A Fine Night, A Warm Night, A Wine-drinking Night, A Moony Night, And A Night To Hug Your Girl And Talk And Spit And Be Heavengoing.