When yer head gets twisted and yer mind numb When you you're too old, too young, too smart or too dumb When yer laggin' behind an' yer pace In a slow-motion crawl of life's race No matter yer doing if you start givin' up If the wine don't to the top of yer cup If the got you sideways with with one hand holdin' on And the other slipping 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 starts and the street gets too long And you start walkin' backwards though you its wrong And lonesome comes up as down the day And tomorrow's mornin' seems so far And you the reins from yer pony are slippin' And yer rope is a-slidin' 'cause yer hands are And yer sun-decked desert and valleys Turn to broken down slums and trash-can And yer sky cries water and yer drain a-pourin' And the lightnin's a-flashing and the thunder's 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 yourself you 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 sweat And you're lookin' for somethin' you ain't found yet And yer knee-deep in the water with yer hands in the air And the whole world's a-watchin' with a window stare And yer good gal leaves and long gone a-flying And yer heart feels sick like when they're fryin' And yer jackhammer falls from yer hand to yer And you need it badly but it lays on the And yer bell's loudly but you can't hear its beat And you think yer ears might a hurt Or yer eyes've turned from the sight-blindin' dirt And you figured you failed in rush 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, it's makin' you Like in the of Life magazine Bouncin' around a pinball And there's something on yer mind you be saying That somebody someplace oughta be But trapped on yer tongue and sealed in yer head And it bothers you when your layin' in bed And no how you try you just can't say it And yer scared to yer soul you just forget it And yer eyes get swimmy from the in yer head And yer pillows of feathers turn to of lead And the lion's mouth opens and yer staring at his And his jaws start closin you underneath And yer flat on your with yer hands tied behind And you wish never taken that last detour sign And you say to yourself just am I doin' On this I'm walkin', on this trail I'm turnin' On this I'm hanging On pathway I'm strolling, in the space I'm taking In air I'm inhaling Am I up too much, am I mixed up too hard 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 ocean of hours I'm all the time drinkin' Who am I helping, am I breaking What am I giving, am I taking But you try with whole soul best to think these thoughts and never to let Them kind of thoughts ground Or make yer pound But again you know why they're around Just waiting for a to slip and drop down "Cause sometimes you hear'em when the night comes creeping And you fear that they catch you a-sleeping And you from yer bed, from yer last chapter of dreamin' And you can't for the best of yer thinking If was you in the dream that was screaming And you know that it's something special you're And you know that there's no drug do for the healin' 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' train on a 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 at yer looks Your voice or your And by any number of bets in the Will be rollin' after the bubblegum craze You need something to open up a new To show you something you seen But a hundred times or more You need to open your eyes You need something to it known it's you and no one else that owns That spot that yer standing, that space you're sitting That the world got you beat That it got you licked It can't get you crazy no matter how you might get kicked You need something special all You need special to give you hope But just a word That you said 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 find it on a dollar bill And it ain't on Macy's window And it ain't on no kid's road map And it ain't in no fat kid's house And it made in no Hollywood wheat germ And it ain't on dimlit stage that half-wit comedian on it Ranting and raving and yer money And you it's funny No you can't find it in no night club or no yacht And it ain't in the seats of a supper And sure as hell you're to tell no matter how hard you rub You ain't a-gonna find it on yer ticket stub No, and it ain't in the people're tellin' you And it ain't in the pimple-lotion are sellin' you And it in no cardboard-box house Or down any movie star's And you can't find it on the golf And Uncle can't tell you and neither can Santa Claus And it ain't in the cream puff hair-do or cotton clothes And it ain't in the dime store or bubblegum goons And it ain't in the marshmallow noises of the cake voices come knockin' and tappin' in Christmas wrappin' Sayin' ain't I pretty and ain't I cute and at my skin Look at my skin shine, look at my skin Look at my skin laugh, look at my cry When you can't sense if they got any insides These people so pretty in ribbons and bows No you'll not now or no day it on the doorsteps made out-a paper mache? And inside it the people of molasses That every other day buy a new of sunglasses And it ain't in the fifty-star generals and flipped-out Who'd yuh in for a tenth of a penny Who and burp and bend and crack And before you can from one to ten Do it all over but this time behind yer back My The that wheel and deal and whirl and twirl And play games with each other in their sand-box And you can't find it in the no-talent fools run around gallant And all rules for the ones that got talent And it ain't in the ones that got any talent but think they do And they're 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 kinds of rnoney and And you yell to yourself and you down yer hat Sayin', "Christ do I gotta be that Ain't there no one here that where I'm at Ain't there no one that knows how I feel God Almighty THAT AIN'T REAL"
No but ain't yer game, it ain't even yer race You can't hear yer name, you can't see yer You gotta some other place And do you look for this hope that yer seekin' Where do you look for this lamp that's Where do you look for oil well gushin' Where do you look for this that's glowin' Where do you look for this that you know is there And out somewhere And your feet can only walk down two of roads Your can only look through two kinds of windows Your can only smell two kinds of hallways You can touch and And turn two kinds of You can either go to the church of your Or you can go to Brooklyn State You'll find God in the church of choice You'll find Woody Guthrie in Brooklyn Hospital
And though only my opinion I may be or wrong You'll find them In the Canyon At