There's A Wall Between You And What

How Does It Feel, How Does It Feel To Be Without A Home, Like A Complete Unknown, Like A Rolling Stone.

Crimson Flames Tied Through My Ears Rolling High And Mighty Traps, Pounced With Fire On Flaming Roads Using Ideas As My Maps.

Nobody Has Ever Taught You How To Live On The Street.

Because Dickens And Dostoyevsky And Woody Guthrie Were Telling Their Stories Much Better Than I Ever Could, I Decided To Stick To My Own Mind.

I've Been Out In Front Of A Dozen Dead Oceans.