The Time I Burned My Guitar It

I Just Hate To Be In One Corner. I Hate To Be Put As Only A Guitar Player, Or Either Only As A Songwriter, Or Only As A Tap Dancer. I Like To Move Around.

My Nature Just Changes.

Click Bang, What A Hang, Your Daddy Just Shot Poor Me.

Will The Wind Ever Remember The Names It Has Blown In The Past? And With Its Crutch, Its Old Age, And Its Wisdom, It Whispers No This Will Be The Last.

To Be With The Others, You Have To Have Your Hair Short And Wear Ties. So We're Trying To Make A Third World Happen, You Know What I Mean?