I was born a long way from where I belong and I am on my way home.
Jewels and binoculars hang from the head of the mule.
He not busy being born is busy dying.
I gotta friend who spends his life, stabbing my picture with a bowie knife. Dreams of strangling me with a scarf, when my name comes up he pretends to barf.
If I had wings, no one would ask me: should I fly?
...don't criticize what you can't understand, your sons and your daughters are beyond your command.