Well, your railroad gate, you know I just can't jump it Sometimes it gets so hard, you see I'm just sitting here beating on my trumpet With all these promises you left for me But where are you tonight, sweet Marie? Well, I waited for you when I was half sick Yes, I waited for you when you hated me Well, I waited for you inside of the frozen traffic When you knew I had some other place to be Now, where are you tonight, sweet Marie? Well, anybody can be just like me, obviously But then, now again, not too many can be like you, fortunately. -- Bob Dylan

CRAZY WOMEN It's true. Outrageously plain as day. The world Is full of crazy women with their wild hair And voices like a wounded sow's, breaking The crockery, flailing their little fists. Raped By their fathers, raped by their uncles, raped By their brothers. Humiliated by their mothers, Betrayed by their lovers, beaten and excoriated By their husbands, reviled by their children. Can God, Even in his despicable remoteness, blame them? Which means that the world is equally full of Crazy men. Tell me, does anyone around here Really believe this life is really worth living? -- Hayden Carruth