You know, I feel sorry for the young artists.

I sat at a bar having a beer trying to hold down the stool.

Each tomorrow will depend on the love you give today.

I may be crazy, but it keeps me from going insane.

If you see me getting smaller, I'm leaving, don't be grieving, just gotta get away from here. If you see me getting smaller, don't worry, and no hurry, I've got the right to disappear.

I ain't got no reverse. I've learned, a little later in life, it works out pretty good to have one every once in a while.

I say, Lord, do right be me, I'm tired of being lonesome, on'ry, and mean.