I'm the oldest son of a crazy man, I'm in a cowboy band.

Upon four-legged forest clouds the cowboy angel rides

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

Peace will come With tranquility and splendor on the wheels of fire But will bring us no reward when her false idols fall.

Well the Lone Ranger and Tonto, they are riding down the line fixing everybody's troubles, everybody except mine.

We don't see the people that vice destroys. We just see the glamour of it - everywhere we look, from billboard signs to movies, to newspapers, to magazines. We see the destruction of human life.

I've never been able to understand the seriousness of it all, the seriousness of pride. People talk, act, live as if they're never going to die. And what do they leave behind? Nothing. Nothing but a mask.