When yer head gets twisted and yer mind grows When you think you're too old, too young, too smart or too When yer laggin' an' losin' yer pace In a slow-motion of life's busy race No matter what yer doing if you 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 engine fire needs a new spark to catch it And the wood's easy findin' but yer to fetch it And yer sidewalk starts curlin' and the street too long And you start backwards though you know its wrong And lonesome comes up as down the day And tomorrow's seems so far away And you feel the from yer pony are slippin' And yer rope is a-slidin' 'cause yer are a-drippin' And yer sun-decked desert and valleys Turn to broken down slums and alleys And yer sky cries water and yer drain pipe's And the lightnin's and the thunder's a-crashin' And the windows are rattlin' and breakin' and the roof tops And yer world's a-slammin' and bangin' And yer of sun turn to hours of storm And to yourself you say "I knew it was gonna be this way Why didn't tell me the day I was born" And you start gettin' and yer jumping from sweat And you're lookin' for somethin' you ain't quite yet And yer knee-deep in the dark water yer hands in the air And the whole world's a-watchin' with a window stare And yer good gal leaves and she's gone a-flying And yer feels sick like fish when they're fryin' And yer jackhammer falls from yer hand to yer And you need it but it lays on the street And yer bell's bangin' loudly but you hear its beat And you yer ears might a been hurt Or yer eyes've turned filthy from the dirt And you you failed in yesterdays rush When you were faked out an' fooled white facing a four And all the time you holdin' three queens And makin you mad, it's makin' you mean in the middle of Life magazine Bouncin' around a pinball And there's something on yer you wanna be saying That somebody oughta be hearin' But it's trapped on yer and sealed in yer head And it bothers you when your layin' in bed And no matter how you try you just say it And yer scared to yer soul you just forget it And yer eyes get swimmy from the tears in yer And yer pillows of turn to blankets of lead And the lion's mouth opens and yer at his teeth And his start closin with you underneath And yer flat on belly with yer hands tied behind And you wish you'd never that last detour sign And you say to yourself just what am I On this road I'm walkin', on trail I'm turnin' On this I'm hanging On this pathway I'm strolling, in the space I'm In air I'm inhaling Am I mixed up too much, am I up too hard Why am I walking, am I running What am I saying, what am I On this guitar I'm playing, on banjo I'm frailin' On this mandolin I'm strummin', in the I'm singin' In the I'm hummin', in the words I'm writin' In the words I'm thinkin' In this ocean of I'm all the time drinkin' Who am I helping, what am I What am I giving, am I taking But you try your whole soul best Never to these thoughts and never to let Them kind of thoughts ground Or make yer pound But then again you know why around Just waiting for a to slip and drop down "Cause sometimes you hear'em the night times comes creeping And you that they might catch you a-sleeping And you from yer bed, from yer last chapter of dreamin' And you remember for the best of yer thinking If that was you in the dream that was And you that it's something special you're needin' And you know that no drug that'll do for the healin' And no liquor in the to stop yer brain from bleeding And you something special Yeah, you need something all right You need a fast flyin' train on a track To shoot you someplace and shoot you You need a cyclone wind on a stream howler That's been banging and and blowing forever That knows yer a hundred times over You need a Greyhound bus that bar no race That laugh at yer looks voice or your face And by any number of in the book Will be rollin' after the bubblegum craze You need something to up a new door To show you something you before But overlooked a hundred times or You need something to open your You need something to make it That you and no one else that owns That spot that yer standing, that space that you're the world ain't got you beat That it got you licked It get you crazy no matter how many you might get kicked You something special all right You need something special to you hope But hope's just a That you said or maybe you heard On some windy corner a wide-angled curve
But that's what you man, and you need it bad And yer trouble is you it too good "Cause you look an' you start getting the
"Cause you can't find it on a bill And it ain't on window sill And it on no rich kid's road map And it ain't in no fat kid's fraternity And it ain't made in no Hollywood germ And it ain't on that stage With that comedian on it Ranting and raving and yer money And you thinks funny No you can't find it in no club or no yacht club And it in the seats of a supper club And as hell you're bound to tell no matter how hard you rub You just a-gonna find it on yer ticket stub No, and it in the rumors people're tellin' you And it ain't in the people are sellin' you And it ain't in no house Or down any star's blouse And you can't find it on the course And Uncle Remus can't tell you and can Santa Claus And it ain't in the cream puff hair-do or cotton candy And it ain't in the dime store or bubblegum goons And it ain't in the marshmallow noises of the chocolate cake That come knockin' and in Christmas wrappin' Sayin' ain't I pretty and I cute and look at my skin Look at my skin shine, at my skin glow Look at my laugh, look at my skin cry When you even sense if they got any insides These people so in their ribbons and bows No you'll not now or no day Find it on the doorsteps out-a paper mache? And it the people made of molasses That other day buy a new pair of sunglasses And it in the fifty-star generals and flipped-out phonies turn yuh in for a tenth of a penny Who breathe and burp and bend and And before you can from one to ten Do it all over but this time behind yer back My The ones wheel and deal and whirl and twirl And games with each other in their sand-box world And you can't find it either in the no-talent That run gallant And all rules for the ones that got talent And it ain't in the that ain't got any talent but think they do And they're foolin' you The who jump on the wagon Just for a 'cause they know it's in style To get kicks, get out of it quick And make all kinds of and chicks And you to yourself and you throw down yer hat Sayin', "Christ do I gotta be that Ain't no one here that knows where I'm at there no one here that knows how I feel Good God STUFF AIN'T REAL"
No but that yer game, it ain't even yer race You can't hear yer name, you can't see yer You gotta look some other And where do you look for this hope that yer Where do you look for this that's a-burnin' Where do you for this oil well gushin' Where do you look for candle that's glowin' Where do you look for this that you know is there And out there And your feet can only walk down two of roads Your can only look through two kinds of windows Your nose can only two kinds of hallways You can touch and And turn two of doorknobs You can either go to the church of choice Or you can go to Brooklyn State You'll find God in the church of choice You'll find Woody in Brooklyn State Hospital
And though it's only my I may be or wrong find them both In the Grand At