Written in July 68
This is the first song I ever wrote...
just getting started on the years of alcoholism

Your lips are sewed, your eyes are glued Your legacy is solitude Dead you are and dead you'll stay And God will never come your way Your mind is live, it seems absurd You talk and shout, but are not heard Poor soul, where's your vanity What's left to you's insanity Your mind is filled with thoughts of gloom Soon they'll put you in your tomb Infinity alies in wait You'll have to spend it in your crate The end of love is always cryin' The end of living is always dying The end is pointless, that fact is clear What reason could have brought you here? Is there a fate? Is there a plan? Time to think if you only can Was there ever life or just deception On the periphery of your perception? We'll think these thoughts, just you and I For one day soon I too will die And when my living at last has failed I'll see oblivion unveiled