You Don't Count The Dead, When God's

I Dug It, New York City, All-the Streets And The Snows And The Starving And The Five-flight Walkups And Sleeping In Rooms With Ten People. I Dug The Trains And The Shadows, The Way I Dug Ore Mines And Coal Mines. I Just Jumped Right To The Bottom Of New York.

Let Me Drink From The Waters Where The Mountain Streams Flood Let The Smell Of Wildflowers Flow Free Through My Blood Let Me Sleep In Your Meadows With The Green Grassy Leaves Let Me Walk Down The Highway With My Brother In Peace Let Me Die In My Footsteps Before I Go Down Under The Ground.

Nothing Can Affect My Voice, It's So Bad.

A Lot Of People Don't Have Much Food On Their Table. But They Got A Lot Of Forks 'n Knives. And They Got To Cut Somethin'.

I'm Good With Songs I Haven't Written, If I Like Them. I'm Glad I Didn't Write Any Of Them. I Already Know How They Go, So I Have More Freedom With Them. I Understand These Songs. I've Known Them For 40 Years, 50 Years, Maybe Longer, And They Make A Lot Of Sense. So I'm Not Coming To Them Like A Stranger.