When yer head gets twisted and yer mind numb When you think too old, too young, too smart or too dumb When yer behind an' losin' yer pace In a slow-motion of life's busy race No matter yer doing if you start givin' up If the wine come to the top of yer cup If the wind's got you sideways with one hand holdin' on And the other starts and the feeling is gone And yer train engine fire needs a new to catch it And the wood's easy but yer lazy to fetch it And yer sidewalk curlin' and the street gets too long And you start walkin' though you know its wrong And lonesome up as down goes the day And tomorrow's mornin' seems so far And you feel the reins yer pony are slippin' And yer rope is a-slidin' yer hands are a-drippin' And yer sun-decked desert and valleys Turn to down slums and trash-can alleys And yer sky cries water and yer pipe's a-pourin' And the a-flashing and the thunder's a-crashin' And the windows are rattlin' and and the roof tops a-shakin' And yer whole world's and bangin' And yer minutes of sun turn to hours of And to you sometimes say "I never knew it was gonna be way Why didn't they me the day I was born" And you gettin' chills and yer jumping from sweat And lookin' for somethin' you ain't quite found yet And yer knee-deep in the dark with yer hands in the air And the whole world's a-watchin' with a peek stare And yer good gal leaves and she's long a-flying And yer heart feels sick like fish when they're And yer jackhammer from yer hand to yer feet And you need it badly but it on the street And yer bangin' loudly but you can't hear its beat And you think yer ears a been hurt Or yer eyes've turned filthy from the dirt And you figured you failed in yesterdays When you were faked out an' fooled white facing a four And all the time you were three queens And it's makin you mad, makin' you mean Like in the of Life magazine Bouncin' a pinball machine And there's something on yer mind you wanna be That somebody someplace be hearin' But it's trapped on yer and sealed in yer head And it bothers you badly your layin' in bed And no how you try you just can't say it And yer scared to yer soul you might forget it And yer eyes get swimmy from the tears in yer And yer pillows of feathers to blankets of lead And the lion's opens and yer staring at his teeth And his start closin with you underneath And yer flat on your belly with yer hands behind And you wish you'd never taken last detour sign And you say to yourself just am I doin' On this road I'm walkin', on this I'm turnin' On this curve I'm On this pathway I'm strolling, in the space I'm In air I'm inhaling Am I mixed up too much, am I mixed up too Why am I walking, am I running What am I saying, am I knowing On this I'm playing, on this banjo I'm frailin' On mandolin I'm strummin', in the song I'm singin' In the tune I'm hummin', in the I'm writin' In the words I'm thinkin' In this of hours I'm all the time drinkin' Who am I helping, am I breaking What am I giving, what am I But you try with your whole soul Never to think these and never to let Them kind of gain ground Or make yer pound But then again you why they're around Just waiting for a to slip and drop down "Cause sometimes you hear'em when the times comes creeping And you fear that they might catch you And you jump from yer bed, from yer last chapter of And you can't remember for the of yer thinking If was you in the dream that was screaming And you know that it's special you're needin' And you know that there's no drug that'll do for the And no liquor in the land to stop yer from bleeding And you something special Yeah, you need something all right You need a fast flyin' on a tornado track To shoot you someplace and you back You a cyclone wind on a stream engine howler That's been banging and booming and blowing That yer troubles a hundred times over You need a Greyhound bus that don't bar no That won't laugh at yer Your voice or face And by any of bets in the book Will be rollin' long after the bubblegum You need something to up a new door To you something you seen before But overlooked a times or more You need something to open eyes You need something to make it That you and no one else that owns That spot yer standing, that space that you're sitting That the world ain't got you That it ain't got you It can't get you crazy no how many you might get kicked You something special all right You need something special to you hope But hope's a word That maybe you or maybe you heard On some windy corner a wide-angled curve
But what you need man, and you need it bad And yer is you know it too good "Cause you an' you start getting the chills
"Cause you can't it on a dollar bill And it ain't on Macy's sill And it on no rich kid's road map And it ain't in no fat fraternity house And it ain't made in no Hollywood germ And it ain't on that stage that half-wit comedian on it Ranting and and taking yer money And you thinks funny No you can't find it in no night or no yacht club And it ain't in the seats of a supper And sure as hell you're to tell That no matter how you rub You just a-gonna find it on yer ticket stub No, and it ain't in the people're tellin' you And it in the pimple-lotion people are sellin' you And it ain't in no house Or down any movie star's And you can't find it on the course And Uncle Remus can't you and neither can Santa Claus And it in the cream puff hair-do or cotton candy clothes And it ain't in the dime dummies or bubblegum goons And it ain't in the marshmallow noises of the chocolate cake That come and tappin' in Christmas wrappin' Sayin' ain't I pretty and ain't I cute and look at my at my skin shine, look at my skin glow Look at my laugh, look at my skin cry When you can't even sense if they got any These people so pretty in ribbons and bows No not now or no other day it on the doorsteps made out-a paper mache? And inside it the people of molasses That every day buy a new pair of sunglasses And it ain't in the fifty-star and flipped-out phonies Who'd turn yuh in for a of a penny Who and burp and bend and crack And before you can count one to ten Do it all over again but this time behind yer My The ones that and deal and whirl and twirl And play games with each in their sand-box world And you can't it either in the no-talent fools run around gallant And make all rules for the that got talent And it ain't in the ones that ain't got any talent but they do And think they're you The ones who jump on the Just for a while they know it's in style To get their kicks, get out of it And all kinds of rnoney and chicks And you yell to yourself and you throw yer hat Sayin', "Christ do I be like that there no one here that knows where I'm at Ain't there no one here knows how I feel God Almighty THAT AIN'T REAL"
No but that ain't yer game, it ain't yer race You can't hear yer name, you see yer face You gotta look some other And where do you look for hope that yer seekin' Where do you look for this that's a-burnin' Where do you look for this oil gushin' Where do you look for candle that's glowin' do you look for this hope that you know is there And out there And your feet can only walk down two of roads eyes can only look through two kinds of windows Your nose can only smell two of hallways You can and twist And turn two kinds of You can either go to the church of your Or you can go to State Hospital You'll find God in the of your choice You'll find Woody in Brooklyn State Hospital
And though it's my opinion I may be or wrong You'll find both In the Grand At