People Have Different Emotional Levels. Especially When

Lay Down The Song You Strum, And Rest Yourself 'neath The Strength Of Strings No Voice Can Hope To Hum.

Everything From Toy Guns That Spark To Flesh-colored Christs That Glow In The Dark It's Easy To See Without Looking Too Far That Not Much Is Really Sacred.

They're Selling Postcards Of The Hanging They're Painting The Passports Brown The Beauty Parlor Is Filled With Sailors The Circus Is In Town Here Comes The Blind Commissioner They've Got Him In A Trance One Hand Is Tied To The Tight-rope Walker The Other Is In His Pants And The Riot Squad They're Restless They Need Somewhere To Go As Lady And I Look Out Tonight From Desolation Row.

You Say Love Is Just A Four Letter Word.

God Got The Power, Man Has Got His Vanity. Man Gotta Choose Before God Can Set Him Free.