(for T.C.)
Too many hospital blues
Too many hanging men
Come living rites
Come desperation
You are not your generation
Days of doubt can ruin men
Brother run them down
Live and let your hand undo them
Brother run them down
Come working nights
Come paranoia
Come any hard times waiting for you
Too many restless years
Friend to me you're an embassy
in the middle of the night
in wayward nations
You are not your generation
When you come home from your good work
and I come home from singing
we'll go out and recognize each other
from a common beginning
Fear will bring a silence
Here I am before him
I should run before him
catch and deafen me
This is a song for a sensitive man
and the humor that he keeps
For Tim who brings rest to the restless
I sing so I can sleep