It's really hard to know what people want around here sometimes.

Oh say, can you see, it's really such a mess. Every inch of earth is a fighting nest. Giant pencial and lipstick tube shaped things, continue to rain and cause scream and pain, and the arctic stains from silver blue to bloody red.

You have to forget about what other people say, when you're supposed to die, or when you're supposed to be loving. You have to forget about all these things.

Now if I don't meet you no more in this world, then I'll, I'll meet you in the next one, and don't be late, don't be late, cause I'm a voodoo chile.

Is this love, baby, or is this just confusion?

Let me live my life the way I want to.

You've got to know much more than the mere technicalities of notes. You've got to know sounds and what goes between the notes.