In this age of fiberglass, I'm searching for a gem.

"Subterranean Homesick Blues" [of Bob Dylan] captures, in word-salad format, life in an encroaching police state.

Although the masters make the rules for the wise men and the fools, I've got nothing, Ma, to live up to.

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.

I never saw myself as a folk singer.

Since my feet are now fast and point away from the past, I'll bid farewell and be down the line.

I just don't hear anyone else making the music I'm making in my head, so I'll have to do it myself.