You know, sometimes a person's reputation can be far more colossal than the influence of the person. I don't pay any attention to it anymore.

Ain't it hard when you discover that, he wasn't really where it's at, after he took from you everything he could steal. How does it feel?

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.

I was lingering out on the pavement. There was a missing person inside of myself and I needed to find him . . . I felt done for, an empty burned-out wreck . . . Wherever I am, I'm a '60s troubadour, a folk-rock relic, a wordsmith from bygone days, a fictitious head of state from a place nobody knows.

And it's a hard, It's a hard, It's a hard, It's a hard, It's a hard rain gonna fall.

I was headed for the fantastic lights. No doubt about it. Could it be that I was being deceived? Not likely. I don't think I had enough imagination to be deceived; had no false hope, either. I'd come from a long ways off and had started from a long ways down. But now destiny was about to manifest itself. I felt like it was looking right at me and nobody else.

You can always come back, but you can't come back all the way.