In Writing Songs, I've Learned As Much

The Inmates And Prisoners, I Found They Were My Kind, And It Was There Inside The Bars I Found My Peace Of Mind.

The Hollow Horn Plays Wasted Words, Proves To Warn That He Not Busy Being Born Is Busy Dying.

Patriotism Is The Last Refuge To Which A Scoundrel Clings.

Satan Will Give You A Little Taste, Then He'll Move In With Rapid Speed.

When I Was Growing Up - Say In The Fifties - The Thirties To Me Didn't Even Exist. I Couldn't Even Imagine Them In Any Kind Of Way, So I Don't Expect Anyone Growing Up Now Is Gonna Even Understand What The Sixties Were All About, Anymore Than I Could The Thirties Or Twenties.