My 10 Year Old Son

There's Two Kind Of Cherries, And Two Kind Of Fairies, And Two Kind Of Mothers I'm Told.

They Shaved A Little Piece Of Bone Off My Small Toe. You See, You Balance Yourself A Certain Way And This Toe Had Grown Under The Other Ones. So He Cut It Loose, Where I Could Balance Myself And It Makes Me Walk Straight.

In 1960, When I Came Out Of Prison As An Ex-convict, I Had More Freedom Under Parolee Supervision Than There's Available... In America Right Now.

The Thing That Bothers Me The Most Is The Recklessness And Greed Of The Local Ranchers, Who Run Too Many Cattle Back Here, Choking With Waste The Creek That Runs Through My Property. There's Certain Times Of Day That The Cowboys Like To Send Them Turds Down The River. Them F**kers Piss Me Off. If You Gotta Mess Up The Ecology Of The World In Order To Raise A Bunch Of Cows, Well Eat Somethin Else. I'm Not A Fan Of The Cowboys.

There's Two Or Three Kids Out There Trying To Make Good Music, And The Rest Of Them Sound Like It's Been Strained Through Some Kind Of White Toast Or Something. It All Sounds Just Too Neat And Perfect, With No Surprise To It At All. No Story, No Nothing. It's Like Building Cars, Like An Assembly Line. It Doesn't Sound Like Anything That Came From A Guitar.