It's Not A House, It's A Home.

Upon Four-legged Forest Clouds The Cowboy Angel Rides

Thinking Of A Series Of Dreams Where The Time And The Tempo Fly And There's No Exit In Any Direction 'cept The One That You Can't See With Your Eyes

I Am Against Nature. I Don't Dig Nature At All. I Think Nature Is Very Unnatural. I Think The Truly Natural Things Are Dreams, Which Nature Can't Touch With Decay.

I Can Picture The Color Of The Song, Or The Shape Of It, Or Who It Is That I'm Trying To Appeal To, In The Song, And What I'm Trying To, Almost, Reinforce My Feelings For. And I Know That Sounds Sort Of Vague And Abstract, But I've Got A Handle On It When I'm Doing It.

Shakespeare, He's In The Alley With His Pointed Shoes And His Bells, Speaking To Some French Girl Who Says She Knows Me Well.