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.

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.

I want to thank You, Lord,;
I just want to thank You, Lord,;
Thank You, Lord.

Go 'way from my window,;
Leave at your own chosen speed.

Now there's spiritual warfare and flesh and blood breaking down.;
Ya either got faith or ya got unbelief and there ain't no neutral ground.

I'm in love with the Ugliest Girl in the World

So let us not talk falsely now, the hour is getting late.

You lose yourself, you reappear

time is running backwards

You're the one I've been looking for,;
You're the one that's got the key.;
But I can't figure out whether I'm too good for you;
Or you're too good for me.

Whatever you gonna do,;
Please do it fast.

Am I no longer a part of your plans or your dreams?

Pain sure brings out the best in people, doesn't it?

I been to Sugar Town, I shook the sugar down

Because something is happening here;
But you don't know what it is;
Do you, Mister Jones?

Don't you cry and don't you die and don't you burn

What's a sweetheart like you doin' in a dump like this?

I'm in the streets;
With the tombstone blues

You know, the streets are filled with vipers;
Who've lost all ray of hope,;
You know, it ain't even safe no more;
In the palace of the Pope.

But does anyone hear the music they play Does anyone even try?

People are crazy and times are strange

Now I wish I could write you a melody so plain;
That could hold you dear lady from going insane

Whatever you wanted;
Slipped out of my mind

Without freedom of speech, I might be in the swamp.

Pistol shots ring out in the barroom night

And, when I was through;
I filled up my shoe;
And brought it to you.

No knife could ever cut our love apart

You breathed on me and made my life a richer one to live,;
When I was deep in poverty you taught me how to give

If this is love then gimme more;
And more and more and more and more.

She's a hypnotist collector

The party's over, and there's less and less to say

And every one of them words rang true;
And glowed like burnin' coal;
Pourin' off of every page;
Like it was written in my soul from me to you

We pointed out the way to go;
And scratched your name in sand,;
Though you just thought it was nothing more;
Than a place for you to stand.

I like the cool way you look at me,;
Everything about you is bringing me;
Misery.

I have dined with kings, I've been offered wings, And I've never been too impressed.

Don't follow leaders;
Watch the parkin' meters

When my life is over, it'll be like a puff of smoke

I hate myself for lovin' you and the weakness that it showed;
You were just a painted face on a trip down Suicide Road

Shall I hold you close?;
Or Shall I let you go by?;
Tell me.;
Tell me.

When there is no more,;
You cut to the core;
Quicker than anyone I knew.

Heard the sound of a clown who cried in the alley

I am hanging in the balance, of the reality of man;
like every sparrow falling, like every grain of sand

Behind every beautiful thing there's been some kind of pain

Gon' walk on down until I'm right beside the sun;
I'm gonna have to put up a barrier to keep myself away from everyone.

Don't have to look no further, you're the soul of many things.

When destruction cometh swiftly;
And there's no time to say a fare-thee-well,;
Have you decided whether you want to be;
In heaven or in hell?

Just what do you think you have to guard?

Everybody's doin' something,;
I heard it in a dream,;
But when there's too much of nothing,;
It just makes a fella mean.

But the enemy I see Wears a cloak of decency

Well, anybody can be just like me, obviously;
But then, now again, not too many can be like you, fortunately.

There are those who worship loneliness, I'm not one of them

If you want somebody you can trust, trust yourself.

Just like you I'm wondrin' what I'm doin' here.;
Just like you I'm wondrin' what's goin' on.

Somebody's got to find your trail,;
I guess it must be up to me.

I been hangin’ on threads I been playin’ it straight Now, I’ve just got to cut loose Before it gets late

you remind me of something that used to be;
somethin' that crossed over from another century

Sometimes the devil likes to drive you from the neighborhood.;
He'll even work his ways through those whose intentions are good.

Guess it's too late to say the things to you;
That you needed to hear me say.

It was true that in his later years he would not carry a gun;
"I'm around too many children," he'd say, "they should never know of one."