I see the turning of the page, curtain rising on a new age, see the groom still waiting at the altar.

The hollow horn plays wasted words, proves to warn that he not busy being born is busy dying.

They say everything can be replaced, Yet every distance is not near. So I remember every face Of every man who put me here. I see my light come shining From the west unto the east. Any day now, any day now, I shall be released.

People disagreeing everywhere you look makes you wanna stop and read a book.

Let me drink from the waters where the mountain streams flood Let the smell of wildflowers flow free through my blood Let me sleep in your meadows with the green grassy leaves Let me walk down the highway with my brother in peace Let me die in my footsteps Before I go down under the ground.

We all like motorcycles to some degree.

Ah, current music. What would that be? Ah, really, a lot of it sounds defective to me. It makes me restless.