Reach back inside yourself,
become someone you can depend on thru thick and thin.
Learn to talk to yourself.
Learn to write. Learn to play the guitar
and blow blues harmonica all over th place at midnight.
Learn to bend th strings and moan th blues.
Ooooo, Baby, make me a Crash-And-Burn Angel.
Ooooo, Baby, watch out for falling stones.
Ooooooooo, Baby, do I, do I look like a Jukejoint Poet?
Ooooooooooooooo, Baby, dance me Roadhouse Rock n' Roll.
Wear denim jeans as often as you can.
Spend yr whole paycheck
on German boots of German 1eather from Berlin.
Find a Naked City coffeehouse
and attend it as often as you can.
Never watch spectator sports on television.
If you absolutely must attend a live sports event
then eat lots of hotdogs and think of fornication
and don't pay much attention to what's going on around you.
Oooooo, Baby, make me a Crash-And-Burn Angel.
Oooooo, Baby, watch out for falling stones.
Oooooooooo, Baby, do I, do I look like a Jukejoint Poet?
Oooooooooooooooo, Baby, dance me Roadhouse Rock n' Roll.
Travel across the earth as much as you can & always be glad
to come home to somewhere special.
Have lots of steamy sex in as many places and positions
and with as many animals as possible--
Even with humans--if they consent.
You can be happy
sittin anywhere--Pittsburgh or Berlin or Madrid
or Memphis or Boston or Chattanooga
or San Francisco down along th docks--just as long as you know
that there's no hope
and there's no possibilities
and there's no such thing as a foreseeable future
and you have an interstate felt tip pen
and a Drugstore Steno Notebook
and keep on writin it down as it comes
an can feel for certain that while y're doin it
yr pants're unmistakably fallin down.
So buck up, bunny faces.
It's not as bad as you thought it was.
It's ten-thousand-times-worse.
Oooooo, Baby, make me a Crash-And-Burn Angel.
Oooooo, Baby, watch out for falling stones.
Oooooooooo, Baby, do I, do I look like a Jukejoint Poet?
Oooooooooooooooo, Baby, dance me Roadhouse Rock n' Roll.
