Oh, Time Is Short And The Days

Your Mind Is A Your Temple, Keep It Beautiful And Free. Don't Let An Egg Get Laid In It By Something You Can't See.

Every Nerve In My Body Is So Vacant And Numb/i Can't Even Remember What It Was I Came Here To Get Away From/don't Even Hear A Murmur Of A Prayer/it's Not Dark Yet, But It's Getting There.

In Writing Songs, I've Learned As Much From Cezanne As I Have From Woody Guthrie.

But I Would Not Feel So All Alone, Everybody Must Get Stoned.

Done Laid Around, Done Stayed Around This Old Town Too Long And It Seems Like I've Got To Travel On