One legged veterans will greet the dawn, and they're whistling marches as they mow the lawn, and the gargoyles on sit and grieve.

Maybe we should raise our voices, ask somebody why. But demonstrations are a drag, besides we're much too high.

So good to be alive when the eulogies are read.

She's staring down her desires, while they're staring down her dress.

Even though you can't expect to defeat the absurdity of the world, you must make that attempt.

In the state of Mississippi, Many Years Ago, a boy of 14 years got a taste of Southern law.

Call it peace or call it treason / call it love or call it reason / but I ain't marching anymore