An Artist Has Got To

You Get Older. You Start Having Hopes For Other People Rather Than Yourself.

Hold It, Doc, A World War Passed Through My Brain. He Said, Nurse, Get Your Pad, This Boy's Insane.

In The Valley Of The Giants Where The Stars And Stripes Explode, The Peaches They Were Sweet And The Milk And Honey Flowed.

Fearing Not That I'd Become My Enemy In The Instant That I Preach

And I Hope That You Die And Your Death'll Come Soon I Will Follow Your Casket In The Pale Afternoon And I'll Watch While You're Lowered Down To Your Deathbed And I'll Stand O'er Your Grave 'til I'm Sure That You're Dead