Love is a burning thing and it makes a firey ring.

When I hear that whistle blowing, I hang my head and cry.

I like to sit on the front porch of an old cabin I built in the woods and just listen to the birds; I like to fish in the pond and I always throw the fish back.

The battle against the dark one and the clinging to the right one is what my life is about.

Call him drunken Ira Hayes, he won't answer any more. Not the whiskey drinking Indian, nor the Marine that went to war.

Of travel I've had my share, man, I've been everywhere.

We're all in this together if we're in it at all.