If I Made Records For My Own

The Dirt Of Gossip Blows Into My Face And The Dust Rumors Cover Me. But If The Arrow Is Straight And The Point Is Slick, It Can Pierce Through Dust No Matter How Thick.

If My Thought-dreams Could Be Seen/ They'd Probably Put My Head In A Guillotine.

Cop Comes Down The Street Crazy As A Loon, He Throws Us In Jail For Carrying Harpoons.

A Cork Screw To My Heart, Ever Since We've Been Apart.

Shedding Off One More Layer Of Skin, Keeping One Step Ahead Of The Persecutor Within.