Americans Have Decided To Be Stupid And

Woke Up, It Was A Chelsea Morning, And The First Thing That I Knew There Was Milk And Toast And Honey And A Bowl Of Oranges, Too.

I Had Made All These Rules For Myself: I'm Not Writing Social Commentary, I'm Not Writing Love Songs.

You've Got To Shake Your Fists At Lightning Now, You've Got To Roar Like Forest Fire You've Got To Spread Your Light Like Blazes All Across The Sky They're Going To Aim The Hoses On You, Show 'em You Won't Expire Not Till You Burn Up Every Passion, Not Even When You Die Come On Now, You've Got To Try, If You're Feeling Contempt, Well Then You Tell It If You're Tired Of The Silent Night, Jesus, Well Then You Yell It Condemned To Wires And Hammers, Strike Every Chord That You Feel That Broken Trees And Elephant Ivories Conceal

I Still Believe In The Power Of The Word, That Words Inspire.

All Romantics Meet The Same Fate Some Day. Drunk And Cynical And Boring Someone In Some Dark Cafe.