Fearing Not That I'd Become My Enemy

There Are Those Who Worship Loneliness, I'm Not One Of Them In This Age Of Fiberglass I'm Searching For A Gem The Crystal Ball Up On The Wall Hasn't Shown Me Nothing Yet I've Paid The Price Of Solitude, But At Last I'm Out Of Debt

Businessmen, They Drink My Wine, Plowmen Dig My Earth. None Of Them Along The Line Know What Any Of It Is Worth.

Feeling Funny In My Mind, Lord I Believe I'm Fixing To Die Well, I Don't Mind Dying But I Hate To Leave My Children Crying Well, I Look Over Yonder To That Burying Ground Look Over Yonder To That Burying Ground Sure Seems Lonesome, Lord, When The Sun Goes Down

Forget The Dead You've Left, They Will Not Follow You.

You Can't Imagine Parlor Ballads Drifting Out Of High-rise Multi-towered Buildings. That Kind Of Music Existed In A More Timeless State Of Life.