The Hollywood sirens are shrieking, while down some search lit alley runs some lost belief.

I don't like to make fluffy little songs, but now I want to make some light songs.

The bands and the roadies, love 'em and leave 'em. It's pleasure to try 'em, but trouble to keep 'em.

We call for the three great stimulants of the exhausted ones, artifice, brutality, and innocence.

All the news of home you read, more about the war and of bloody changes.

I wish I had a river I could skate away on?

I know my generation - a lot of them, they're getting old now, and they want to think back fondly, they want to kid themselves. A lot of them think, 'Yeah, we were the best.' That's the kiss of death. That's non-growth. And also that's very bad for the world.