And The Color In My

The Nine-to-five Is One Of The Greatest Atrocities Sprung Upon Mankind. You Give Your Life To A Function That Doesn't Interest You. This Situation So Repelled Me That I Was Driven To Drink, Starvation, And Mad Females, Simply As An Alternative.

You Begin Saving The World By Saving One Man At A Time; All Else Is Grandiose Romanticism Or Politics.

Only The Boring Get Bored

They Laughed. Things Were Funny. They Weren't Afraid To Care. There Was No Sense To Life, To The Structure Of Things.

We Drove On And On, Past Little Villages And Both Good Things And Bad Things Were Happening To The People In Those Villages Too, But I Still Was Nothing But Arms And Ears And Eyes And Maybe There'd Be Either Some Good Luck For Me Or More Death Tomorrow.