I think a poet is anybody who wouldn't call himself a poet.

Shakespeare, he's in the alley with his pointed shoes and his bells, speaking to some French girl who says she knows me well.

Heard ten thousand whispering and nobody listening. Heard one person starve, I heard many people laughing. Heard the song of a poet who died in the gutter.

Bob Dylan wasn't a big star early on; it was the release of his Greatest Hits album in 1967, and the mainstream success of the stoner anthem "Rainy Day Women #12 & 35" ("Everybody must get stoned!"), that really put him on the mainstream map.

The land created me. I'm wild and lonesome. Even as I travel the cities, I'm more at home in the vacant lots.

Princess on the steeple and all the pretty people, they're drinking, thinking that they got it made. Exchanging all kinds of precious gifts and things, but you'd better lift your diamond ring, you'd better pawn it, babe.

Well I'm living in a foreign country but I'm bound to cross the line. Beauty walks a razor's edge...someday I'll make it mine.