My songs were influenced not so much by poetry on the page but by poetry being recited by the poets who recited poems with jazz bands.
Let us not talk falsely now, the hour is getting late.
Forget the dead you've left, they will not follow you.
Madonna, she still has not showed, we see this empty cage now corrode, where her cape of the stage once had flowed, the fiddler he now steps to the road, on the back of the fish truck that loads, while my conscience explodes.
I was so much older then; I'm younger than that now. From the back pages
Stay free of petty jealousies, live by no man's code, and hold your judgment for yourself, lest you wind up on this road.
The naked truth is still taboo.
You'll never be greater than yourself.
You don't write a song to sit there on a page. You write it to sing it.
Truth is an arrow and the gate is narrow that it passes through.