Well, if I had to do it all over again,; Babe, I'd do it all over you.
I see people who are supposed to know better standin' around like furniture.
While my conscience explodes; The harmonicas play the skeleton keys and the rain
Since every pleasure's got an edge of pain; Pay for your ticket and don't complain
If I had wings and I could fly,; I know where I would go.
goodbye's too good a word, gal; so I'll just say fare thee well
As the last fire truck from hell; Goes rolling by, all good people are praying
Well, the road is rocky and the hillside's mud; Up over my head nothing but clouds of blood
If dogs run free, why not me; Across the swamp of time?
All right, I'll take a chance, I will fall in love with you
Those are the hills of hell-fire my love; Where you and I will unite
You're the one I adore, come over here and give me more
If I shut myself off so I can't hear you cry,; What good am I?
Through the wild cathedral evening the rain unraveled tales
I was just too stubborn to ever be governed by enforced insanity
You know, news of you has come down the line; Even before ya came in the door.; They say in your father's house, there's many mansions; Each one of them got a fireproof floor.
The vagabond who's rapping at your door; Is standing in the clothes that you once wore.
I see you kiss her on the cheek ev'rytime she gives a speech
Well, the chances are against it and the odds are slim,; That he'll live by the rules that the world makes for him
It's all been designed, he said, "To make you lose your mind,; And when you go back to find it, there's nothing there to find."
Lost time is not found again
So long, New York.; Howdy, East Orange.
Now, I can't go back to what was, baby,; I can't unring the bell.
Down the highway, down the tracks, down the road to ecstasy,; I followed you beneath the stars, hounded by your memory,; And all your ragin' glory.
She was with Big Jim but she was leanin' to the Jack of Hearts
Oh, the only decent thing I did when I worked as a postal clerk; Was to haul your picture down off the wall near the cage where I used to work.; Was I a fool or not to try to protect your identity?; You looked a little burned out, my friend,; I thought it might be up to me.
False-hearted judges dying in the webs that they spin,; Only a matter of time 'til night comes steppin' in.
I have dined with kings, I've been offered wings, And I've never been too impressed.
People are crazy and times are strange
Sometimes I wonder what it's gonna take; To find dignity
People disagreeing everywhere you look,; Makes you wanna stop and read a book.
it is not he or she or them or it; That you belong to.
Gonna take dancing lessons do the jitterbug rag; Ain't no shortcuts, gonna dress in drag; Only a fool in here would think he's got anything to prove
I'm hungry and I'm irritable; And I'm tired of this bag of tricks.; At one time there was nothing wrong with me; That you could not fix.
I can still hear the sounds of those Methodist bells; I'd taken the cure and had just gotten through
Oh, man has invented his doom, First step was touching the moon.
Your magnetic movements; Still capture the minutes I'm in.
How does it feel
You shouldn't let other people get your kicks for you
She's a hypnotist collector
I've gained some recognition but I lost my appetite.
I don't need no alibi when I'm spending time with you.; I've heard all of them rumors and you have heard 'em too.
Oh it's rush hour now; On the wheel and the plow; And the sun is going down; Upon the sacred cow.
A saxophone someplace far off played
I hear that sometimes Satan comes as a man of peace.
You don't need a weather man; To know which way the wind blows
What kind of sign they need when it all come from within
Any day now, any day now,; I shall be released.
Goodnight, my love, may the lord have mercy on us all.
If you're looking for assistance, babe,; Or if you just want some company; Or if you just want a friend you can talk to,; Honey, come and see about me.
What drives me to you is what drives me insane.
'Cause he doesn't tell you jokes or fairy tales, say he's got no style.
Now somebody's got to show their hand, time is an enemy
Nobody feels any pain
I was burned out from exhaustion, buried in the hail,; Poisoned in the bushes an' blown out on the trail,; Hunted like a crocodile, ravaged in the corn.
But does anyone hear the music they play
Does anyone even try?
