I'm going out of my mind, oh, oh; with a pain that stops and starts; like a corkscrew to my heart; Ever since we've been apart - Bob Dylan

ll the merry little elves can go hang themselves
My faith is as cold as can be
I'm stacked high to the roof, and I'm not without proof
If you don't believe me, come see.
You think i'm blue I think so too
In my words you'll find no guile
The game's gotten old The deck's gone cold
And i'm gonna have to put you down for a while
The game's gotten old The deck's gone cold
I'm gonna have to put you down for a while
-Bob Dylan, “Huck’s Tune

I had written and recorded so many songs, but it wasn’t like I was playing many of them. I think I was only up to the task of about twenty or so. The rest were too cryptic, too darkly driven, and I was no longer capable of doing anything radically creative with them. It was like carrying a package of heavy rotting meat. I couldn’t understand where they came from. The glow was gone and the match had burned right to the end. I was going through the motions. Try as I might, the engines wouldn’t start.

And here I sit so patiently waiting to find out what price you have to pay to get out of going through all these things twice.