The Enemy Is Subtle, How Be It

Feel Like A Broke-down Engine, Ain't Got No Drivin' Wheel. You All Been Down And Lonesome, You Know Just How A Poor Man Feels.

Just Because You Like My Stuff Doesn't Mean I Owe You Anything.

On The Cliffs Of Your Wild Cat Charms I'm Riding.

One Was Texas Medicine, The Other Was Just Railroad Gin, And Like A Fool I Mixed Them.

Your Problem Is That Wanna Better Word For World