Even If You Don't Have All The

It's Not Easy To Define Poetry.

They Can't Hurt Me. Sure, They Can Crush You And Kill You. They Can Lay You Out On 42nd And Broadway And Put Hoses On You And Flush You In The Sewers And Put You On The Subway And Carry You Out To Coney Island And Bury You On The Ferris Wheel. But I Refuse To Sit Here And Worry About Dying.

Lay Down The Song You Strum, And Rest Yourself 'neath The Strength Of Strings No Voice Can Hope To Hum.

Beyond Here Lies Nothin' But The Mountains Of The Past

I Became Interested In Folk Music Because I Had To Make It Somehow.