I Never Saw Myself As A Folk

I Saw Him Making Love To You, You Forgot To Close The Garage Door.

There Are Degrees Of Happiness. You Go From One To The Other And Then Back Again. It's Hard To Be Completely Happy When Those Around Us Are Suffering And Groaning From Hunger.

I Believe That Instinct Is What Makes A Genius A Genius.

I Was Lingering Out On The Pavement. There Was A Missing Person Inside Of Myself And I Needed To Find Him . . . I Felt Done For, An Empty Burned-out Wreck . . . Wherever I Am, I'm A '60s Troubadour, A Folk-rock Relic, A Wordsmith From Bygone Days, A Fictitious Head Of State From A Place Nobody Knows.

Early On, Before Rock 'n' Roll, I Listened To Big Band Music - Anything That Came Over The Radio - And Music Played By Bands In Hotels That Our Parents Could Dance To. We Had A Big Radio That Looked Like A Jukebox, With A Record Player On The Top. The Radio/record Player Played 78rpm Records. When We Moved To That House, There Was A Record On There, With A Red Label. It Was Bill Monroe, Or Maybe It Was The Stanley Brothers. I'd Never Heard Anything Like That Before. Ever. And It Moved Me Away From All The Conventional Music That I Was Hearing.