With or Without CrazinessErnest Williamson, III I'm a well wisher for evil says the man in the old gray Fedora as flora beneath the rambling railways tilt with questions why here in this awful place do we reside is earth just liturgy wasting along side the burrows of sandy answers I never know what I mean until someone questions what I think I mean in the tundra over the muff intonations again I've shackled my doctor with nonsense and though I'd love to chat with you some more I must go now I must go til' freedom touches the sane with feathers of grain after and before the death of my noise
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