A song is anything that can walk by itself.
Draft beer, not people.
You breathed on me and made my life a richer one to live, when I was deep in poverty you taught me how to give. Dried the tears up from my dreams and pulled me from my hole, quenched my thirst and satisfied the burning in my soul.
I read On the Road in maybe 1959. It changed my life like it changed everyone else's.
Freedom just around the corner for you, but with the truth so far off, what good will it do?
I say there're no depressed words just depressed minds.
Gonna change my way of thinking, make my self a different set of rules. Gonna put my good foot forward and stop being influenced by fools.
A poem is a naked person... Some people say that I am a poet.
But I would not feel so all alone, everybody must get stoned.
I didn't come out of a cereal box.
The warrior who's strength is not to fight.
I accept chaos. I am not sure whether it accepts me. I know some people are terrified of the bomb. But then some people are terrified to be seen carrying a modern screen magazine. Experience teaches us that silence terrifies people the most.
Don't know which one is worse, doing your own thing or just being cool.
I'm determined to stand whether God will deliver me or not.
The only person you have to think about lying twice to is either yourself or to God. The press isn't either of them. And I just figured they're irrelevant.
There's danger in this open world where men strive to be free, and to me the greatest danger was in society.
Shadows are falling and I've been here all day/It's too hot to sleep, time is running away/Feel like my soul has turned into steel/I've still got the scars that the sun didn't heal.
If you told the truth, that was all well and good and if you told the un-truth, well, that's still well and good. Folk songs had taught me that.
At times in my life the only place I have been happy is when I am on stage.
I've been up the mountain and I had a choice. Should I come down? So I came down. God said, Okay, you've been up on the mountain, now you go down. You're on your own, free. Check in later, but now you're on your own.
You’re a cow Give me some milk Or else go home
I'm speaking for all of us. I'm the spokesman for a generation.
There's a whole lot of people in trouble tonight From the disease of conceit Whole lot of people seeing double tonight From the disease of conceit Give ya delusions of grandeur And a evil eye Give you the idea that You're too good to die Then they bury you from your head to your feet From the disease of conceit
How many roads must a man walk down, Before you call him a man? How many seas must a white dove sail, Before she sleeps in the sand? Yes, and how many times must the cannon balls fly, Before they're forever banned?
I'll always thank the Lord when my working day is through, I get my sweet reward to be alone with you.
"America was founded on the backs of slaves."
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