We Mortals Hear Only The News, And

I've Finally Tapped Into That Spirit Of Self-destruction That Makes Rock-n-roll The King Of Music!

They Did Not Know Her-gods Are Hard For Mortals To Recognize.

Without Tv, It's Hard To Know When One Day Ends And Another Begins.

Let Me Not Then Die Ingloriously And Without A Struggle, But Let Me First Do Some Great Thing That Shall Be Told Among Men Hereafter.

The Skin Of The Coward Changes Color All The Time, He Can't Get A Grip On Himself, He Can't Sit Still, He Squats And Rocks, Shifting His Weight From Foot To Foot, His Heart Racing, Pounding Inside The Fellow's Ribs, His Teeth Chattering. He Dreads Some Grisly Death. But The Skin Of A Brave Soldier Never Blanches. He's All Control. Tense But No Great Fear.