You Can Speak Your Mind But Not

I Look At Some Of The Songs I Wrote Years Ago And I Can't Believe I Wrote Such Crap.

I Have A Theory That The Only Original Things We Ever Do Are Mistakes.

It's Nine O'clock On A Saturday, The Regular Crowd Shuffles In / There's An Old Man Sitting Next To Me Making Love To His Tonic And Gin / He Says, 'son, Can You Play Me A Memory?/ I'm Not Really Sure How It Goes / But It's Sad And It's Sweet, And I Knew It Complete When I Wore A Younger Man's Clothes.'

I Am The Entertainer And I Know Just Where I Stand Another Serenader And Another Long Haired Band Today I Am Your Champion, I May Have Won Your Hearts, But I Know The Game, You'll Forget My Name, And I Won't Be Here In Another Year If I Don't Stay On The Charts.

We Drown Our Doubts In Dry Champagne And Soothe Our Souls With Fine Cocaine. I Don't Know Why I Even Care, We Get So High And Get Nowhere.