I could a done a lot worse than sit In Skid Row drinkin wine
To know that nothing matters after all To know there's no real difference Between the rich and the poor To know that eternity is neither drunk Nor sober, to know it young And be a poet
Coulda gone into business and ranted And believed that God was concerned
Instead I squatted in lonesome alleys And nobody saw me, just my bottle And what they saw of it was empty
And I did it in cornfields & graveyards
To know that the dead don't make noise To know that the cornstalks talk (among One another with raspy old arms)
Sittin in alleys diggin the neons And watching cathedral custodians Wring out their rags neath the church steps
Sittin and drinkin wine And in railyards being divine
To be a millionaire & yet to prefer Curlin up with a poorboy of tokay In a warehouse door, facing long sunsets On railroad fields of grass
To know that the sleepers in the river Are dreaming vain dreams, to squat In the night and know it well
To be dark solitary eye-nerve watcher Of the world's whirling diamondTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.