Son, this ain't a dream no more, it's the real thing.
So long, New York.;
Howdy, East Orange.
She once was a true love of mine
Just do your thing, you'll be king;
If dogs run free.
Tell ev'rybody;
Down in ol' 'Frisco;
That Tiny Montgomery's comin';
Down to say Hello
You can't get to glory by the raising and the lowering of no flag.;
Put your goodness next to God's and it comes out like a filthy rag.
Democracy don't rule the world,;
You'd better get that in your head.;
This world is ruled by violence;
But I guess that's better left unsaid.
And I can't let go, won't let go, and I can't let go no more.
People disagreeing on all just about everything, yeah,;
Makes you stop and all wonder why.
Well it's way past midnight and there are people all around;
Some on their way up, some on their way down
I still got my voice left, I can take it anywhere I go
Your cracked country lips,;
I still wish to kiss,;
As to be under the strength of your skin.
Don't know if I saw you, if I would kiss you or kill you;
It probably wouldn't matter to you anyhow
Oh a false clock tries to tick out my time
I was in your presence for an hour or so;
Or was it a day? I truly don't know.
Wealth is a filthy rag;
So erotic so unpatriotic;
So wrapped up in the American flag
My conscience is beginning to bother me today.
I've been down on the bottom of a world full of lies;
I ain't looking for nothing in anyone's eyes
Lay down your weary tune, lay down,;
Lay down the song you strum,;
And rest yourself 'neath the strength of strings;
No voice can hope to hum.
The truth was obscure, too profound and too pure, to live it you have to explode.
Turn your back, wash your hands,;
There's always someone who understands
I ain't sayin' you treated me unkind;
You could have done better but I don't mind;
You just kinda wasted my precious time
Either I'm too sensitive or else I'm gettin' soft.
Have you got some unfinished business?;
Is there something holding you back?;
Are you thinking for yourself;
Or are you following the pack?
I'm listening to Neil Young, I gotta turn up the sound;
Someone's always yelling turn it down
When they came for Him in the garden, did they know?
I'm going back to New York City;
I do believe I've had enough
I'm just sitting here beating on my trumpet
You were snow, you were rain;
You were striped, you were plain,;
