The rifleman's stalking the sick and the lame, preacherman seeks the same, who'll get there first is uncertain.
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.
When you're sad and when you're lonely and you haven't got a friend, just remember that death is not the end.
Ain't no use jiving, ain't no use joking, everything is broken.
There doesn't seem to be any tomorrow. Every time I wake up, no matter in what position, it's always been today.
You can't imagine parlor ballads drifting out of high-rise multi-towered buildings. That kind of music existed in a more timeless state of life.
Mama's in the factory, she ain't got no shoes. Daddy's in the alley, he's looking for food.
You were born with a snake in both of your fists while a hurricane was blowing.
They're selling postcards of the hanging.
The only sound that's left after the ambulances go is Cinderella sweeping up on Desolation Row.
Lord knows I've paid my dues getting through, tangled up in blue.
As he weeps to wicked birds of prey, who pick up on his bread crumb sins, and there are no sins inside the Gates of Eden.
There's eyes behind the mirrors in empty places.
She took off her wheel, took off her bell, took off her wig, said, how do I smell? I hot footed it barenaked out the window.
Well, I don't know, but I've been told the streets in heaven are lined with gold. I ask you how things could get much worse if the Russians happen to get up there first; Wowee! pretty scary!
I was down in the sewer with some little lover.
Anger and jealousy's all that he sells us, he's content when you're under his thumb. Madmen oppose him, but your kindness throws him, to survive it you play deaf and dumb.
The cards are no good that your are holding unless you're from another world.
Take me on a trip upon your magic swirling ship.
In this age of fiberglass, I'm searching for a gem.
Jewels and binoculars hang from the head of the mule.
Socialism, hypnotism, patriotism, materialism, fools making laws for the breaking of jaws.
Too much of nothing, it just makes a fellow mean.
Crimson flames tied through my ears rolling high and mighty traps, pounced with fire on flaming roads using ideas as my maps.
Every day is the same thing out the door Feel further away then ever before Some things in life, it gets too late to learn Well, I'm lost somewhere I must have made a few bad turns
"America was founded on the backs of slaves."
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