Men To Whom God Is Dead Worship

I Am Not Perfect." It Came Out In A Rush Of Breath. "see I Thought I Was. Thank God I Ain't. See A Perfect Thing Ain't Got A Chance. The World Kills It, Everything Perfect. (listen To Him!) Now See A Thing That Ain't Perfect, It Grows Like A Weed. Yeah, Like A Weed! A Thing That Ain't Perfect Gets Hand Clapping, Smiles, Takes The Wire An Easy Winner. But The World Ain't Set Up Right If You Perfect. You Lible To Run Right Into A Brick Wall. Looks Like Suicide. All The Weeds Say, Looka There, It Suicide!

What The Artist Owes The World Is His Work; Not A Model For Living.

If You're Gonna Write, For God In Heaven's Sake, Try To Get Naked. Try To Write The Truth. Try To Get Underneath All The Sham, All The Excuses, All The Lies That You've Been Told.

Men To Whom God Is Dead Worship One Another.

There Ought To Be A Law Against The Sun Rising And Setting For You In Somebody Else.