i became a man by letting go of myself for the spirits flow now i soar , hear me sing laughing too , and wondering about the clowns i left up there because im on the soil and thats somewhere too beautiful to view from a tailspin death-rattle riddler dialectic , doubts raised on reason the ceremonies that turn the seasons sex and drugs and rock n roll and the bitter lie that slays the soul saying , you were born to live this low as for her love , youll never know whether you will reach that height only to fall back into night all these suicide devices all these tools which feel real nice when theyre around are on the ground , and they 're bleeding on the fodder youd be feeding from tomorrow but now its gone yesterday you were a loser but tonight you turn and tell her no im not but what kind of proof have you got besides all this hope ?