Well I'm Living In A Foreign Country

Sold My Guitar To The Baker's Son For A Few Crumbs And A Place To Hide.

I'm Inconsistent, Even To Myself.

I'd Been Going Though His Trash. He Knocked Me Down. I Was Glad To See Him, Even Though He Was Banging My Head Against The Sidewalk. Afterwards These Bums Come Over And Say, 'did He Get Much Money?' I Say, 'money'? That Was Bob Dylan.

I'm Ready To Go Anywhere, I'm Ready For To Fade, Into My Own Parade, Cast Your Dancing Spell My Way.

In My Childhood Everything You Heard, You Could Imagine What It Looked Like. Even Singers That I Would Hear On The Radio, I Couldn't See What They Looked Like, So I Imagined What They Looked Like. What They Were Wearing. What Their Movements Were. Gene Vincent? When I First Pictured Him, He Was A Tall, Lanky Blond-haired Guy.