If You Don't Have To Write Songs,

I'm Sick Of Giving Creeps Money Off My Soul.

You'll Find Out When You Reach The Top, You're On The Bottom.

Oh, The Inmates And The Prisoners I Found They Were My Kind And It Was There Inside The Bars I Found My Peace Of Mind But The Jails They Were Too Crowded Institutions Overflowed So They Turned Me Loose To Walk Upon Life's Hurried Tangled Road

Satan Will Give You A Little Taste, Then He'll Move In With Rapid Speed.

How Many Roads Must A Man Walk Down.. Before You Can Call Him A Man.