Time Is An Ocean, But It Ends

I Saw Him Making Love To You, You Forgot To Close The Garage Door.

I Was Lingering Out On The Pavement. There Was A Missing Person Inside Of Myself And I Needed To Find Him . . . I Felt Done For, An Empty Burned-out Wreck . . . Wherever I Am, I'm A '60s Troubadour, A Folk-rock Relic, A Wordsmith From Bygone Days, A Fictitious Head Of State From A Place Nobody Knows.

Heard Ten Thousand Whispering And Nobody Listening. Heard One Person Starve, I Heard Many People Laughing. Heard The Song Of A Poet Who Died In The Gutter.

Madonna, She Still Has Not Showed, We See This Empty Cage Now Corrode, Where Her Cape Of The Stage Once Had Flowed, The Fiddler He Now Steps To The Road, On The Back Of The Fish Truck That Loads, While My Conscience Explodes.

Witchcraft Scum Exploiting The Dumb Turning Children Into Punks And Slaves.