When Shakespeare Was Writing, He Wasn't Writing

The Stars Up Close To The Moon Were Pale; They Got Brighter And Braver The Farther They Got Out Of The Circle Of Light Ruled By The Giant Moon

We'd Just Shared The Last Beer And Slung The Empty Can Out The Window At A Stop Sign And Were Just Waiting Back To Get The Feel Of The Day, Swimming In That Kind Of Tasty Drowsiness That Comes Over You After A Day Of Going Hard At Something You Enjoy Doing -- Half Sunburned And Half Drunk And Keeping Awake Only Because You Wanted To Savor The Taste As Long As You Could.

I'm So Insane, I Voted For Eisenhower. Oh Yeah, Well I'm So Insane, I Voted For Eisenhower Twice!

Memory Whispers Someplace In That Jumbled Machinery.

You're Making Sense, Old Man, A Sense Of Your Own. You're Not Crazy The Way They Think. Yes...i See.