When yer head gets twisted and yer mind numb you think you're too old, too young, too smart or too dumb When yer laggin' behind an' losin' yer In a slow-motion of life's busy race No matter what yer doing if you start up If the don't come to the top of yer cup If the wind's got you sideways with with one holdin' on And the other starts and the feeling is gone And yer train fire needs a new spark to catch it And the wood's findin' but yer lazy to fetch it And yer sidewalk curlin' and the street gets too long And you start backwards though you know its wrong And lonesome up as down goes the day And mornin' seems so far away And you feel the reins yer pony are slippin' And yer rope is 'cause yer hands are a-drippin' And yer sun-decked desert and evergreen Turn to broken down slums and trash-can And yer sky cries water and yer pipe's a-pourin' And the lightnin's a-flashing and the thunder's And the windows are rattlin' and breakin' and the roof tops And yer whole world's and bangin' And yer of sun turn to hours of storm And to you sometimes say "I knew it was gonna be this way Why didn't they me the day I was born" And you start gettin' chills and yer jumping from And you're lookin' for somethin' you ain't found yet And yer knee-deep in the dark with yer hands in the air And the whole world's a-watchin' with a window stare And yer good gal leaves and she's long a-flying And yer heart feels sick like fish when fryin' And yer jackhammer from yer hand to yer feet And you need it but it lays on the street And yer bangin' loudly but you can't hear its beat And you think yer ears might a hurt Or yer eyes've turned filthy from the sight-blindin' And you figured you failed in yesterdays When you were faked out an' fooled white facing a flush And all the time you were holdin' three And it's makin you mad, it's makin' you Like in the of Life magazine Bouncin' around a pinball And something on yer mind you wanna be saying That somebody oughta be hearin' But it's trapped on yer tongue and in yer head And it bothers you when your layin' in bed And no matter how you try you can't say it And yer to yer soul you just might forget it And yer eyes get swimmy the tears in yer head And yer pillows of feathers turn to blankets of 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 that detour sign And you say to just what am I doin' On this road I'm walkin', on this trail I'm On curve I'm hanging On this I'm strolling, in the space I'm taking In this air I'm Am I mixed up too much, am I mixed up too Why am I walking, where am I am I saying, what am I knowing On this guitar I'm playing, on this banjo I'm On this I'm strummin', in the song I'm singin' In the I'm hummin', in the words I'm writin' In the words I'm thinkin' In this ocean of hours I'm all the drinkin' Who am I helping, am I breaking What am I giving, am I taking But you try with your whole best Never to think these and never to let Them kind of thoughts ground Or yer heart pound But again you know why they're around waiting for a chance to slip and drop down "Cause you hear'em when the night times comes creeping And you fear they might catch you a-sleeping And you jump from yer bed, yer last chapter of dreamin' And you can't remember for the of yer thinking If that was you in the dream that was And you know that it's something special you're And you that there's no drug that'll do for the healin' And no liquor in the to stop yer brain from bleeding And you need something Yeah, you need something special all You a fast flyin' train on a tornado track To shoot you someplace and you back You need a cyclone on a stream engine howler That's been banging and booming and blowing That knows yer a hundred times over You need a Greyhound bus that don't bar no won't laugh at yer looks Your voice or your And by any number of bets in the Will be long after the bubblegum craze You need something to up a new door To you something you seen before But a hundred times or more You need something to open eyes You need something to it known it's you and no one else that owns That spot that yer standing, that space that sitting That the ain't got you beat it ain't got you licked It can't get you no matter how many you might get kicked You need something all right You need special to give you hope But hope's just a That maybe you or maybe you heard On some windy corner 'round a wide-angled
But what you need man, and you need it bad And yer is you know it too good "Cause you look an' you getting the chills
"Cause you can't find it on a bill And it ain't on Macy's sill And it ain't on no rich kid's map And it in no fat kid's fraternity house And it made in no Hollywood wheat germ And it ain't on that stage With half-wit comedian on it and raving and taking yer money And you thinks it's No you can't it in no night club or no yacht club And it in the seats of a supper club And sure as hell bound to tell That no matter how you rub You just ain't a-gonna find it on yer ticket No, and it ain't in the rumors people're you And it ain't in the people are sellin' you And it ain't in no cardboard-box Or down any star's blouse And you find it on the golf course And Uncle Remus can't tell you and neither can Claus And it ain't in the puff hair-do or cotton candy clothes And it ain't in the dime dummies or bubblegum goons And it ain't in the noises of the chocolate cake voices That knockin' and tappin' in Christmas wrappin' Sayin' I pretty and ain't I cute and look at my skin at my skin shine, look at my skin glow Look at my skin laugh, at my skin cry you can't even sense if they got any insides These people so pretty in their ribbons and No you'll not now or no day Find it on the doorsteps made paper mache? And inside it the people made of every other day buy a new pair of sunglasses And it ain't in the generals and flipped-out phonies turn yuh in for a tenth of a penny Who breathe and burp and and crack And before you can from one to ten Do it all over again but this time yer back My The ones that and deal and whirl and twirl And play games with other in their sand-box world And you can't it either in the no-talent fools That run around And make all rules for the that got talent And it ain't in the ones that got any talent but think they do And think foolin' you The who jump on the wagon Just for a while 'cause know it's in style To get their kicks, get out of it And make all of rnoney and chicks And you yell to and you throw down yer hat Sayin', "Christ do I be like that Ain't there no one here knows where I'm at Ain't no one here that knows how I feel Good God THAT STUFF REAL"
No but that yer game, it ain't even yer race You can't hear yer name, you see yer face You gotta look some other And do you look for this hope that yer seekin' Where do you for this lamp that's a-burnin' Where do you look for oil well gushin' Where do you for this candle that's glowin' Where do you for this hope that you know is there And out there And your can only walk down two kinds of roads Your eyes can only look through two of windows nose can only smell two kinds of hallways You can and twist And turn two of doorknobs You can go to the church of your choice Or you can go to Brooklyn State You'll find God in the of your choice You'll find Woody in Brooklyn State Hospital
And it's only my opinion I may be right or find them both In the Grand At