What have they done to the earth? What have they done to our fair sister? Ravaged and plundered and ripped her and bit her Stuck her with knives in the side of the dawn And tied her with fences and dragged her down

In the beginning we were creating our music, ourselves, every night . . . starting with a few outlines, maybe a few words for a song. Sometimes we worked out in Venice, looking at the surf. We were together a lot and it was good times for all of us. Acid, sun, friends, the ocean, and poetry and music.

Man, I'm sick of doubt.

Where are the feasts we were promised? Where is the wine, the new wine, dying on the vine.

There are images I need to complete my own reality.

the human race was dying out Noone left to scream n shout People living on the moon Smog will get you pretty soon Ship of Fools

Indians scattered on dawn's highway bleeding/Ghosts crowd the young child's fragile eggshell mind.