Uttering idle words from a reprobate mind,
Clinging to strange promises,
In the time of my confession, in the hour of
I was in your presence for an hour or so
Or
Lenny Bruce is dead but his ghost lives on and
Go ahead and talk about him because he makes you
I need a shot of love, I need a shot
Prayed in the ghetto with my face in the cement,
Heard
Trouble in the city, trouble in the farm,
You got your
Love that's pure hopes all things,
Believes all things, won't pull
Heart of mine, be still
You can play with fire but