Obscenity, who really cares. Propaganda, all is phony.

I'm just glad to be feeling better. I really thought I'd be seeing Elvis soon.

Sing your praise of progress and the doom machine, the naked truth is still taboo whenever it can be seen.

The National Bank at profit sells road maps for the soul.

Crimson flames tied through my ears rolling high and mighty traps, pounced with fire on flaming roads using ideas as my maps.

You're gonna have to serve somebody; well, it may be the devil, or it may be the Lord, but you're gonna have to serve somebody.

You're better than no one and no one is better than you.