Ain't no use jiving, ain't no use joking, everything is broken.

Technology to wipe out truth is now available. Not everybody can afford it but it's available. When the cost comes down, look out!

It frightens me, the awful truth, of how sweet life can be.

Come Senators, Congressman, please heed the call, don't stand in the doorway, don't block the hall.

Well, the moral of the story, The moral of this song, Is simply that one should never be Where one does not belong. So when you see your neighbor carryin' somethin', Help him with his load, And don't go mistaking Paradise For that home across the road.

The ghosts race towards the light, you can almost hear the heavy breathing spirits, all determined to get somewhere. New Orleans, unlike a lot of places you go back to and that don't have the magic anymore, still has got it. Night can swallow you up, yet none of it touches you. You can't see it, but you know it's here. Somebody's always sinking.

You say you're looking for someone who'll pick you up each time you fall, to gather flowers constantly and to come each time you call, a lover your life and nothing more. But it ain't me, babe.