black
grey
blue
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brown
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The earth is not my home, I’m just passing by.

Tom Waits

I don’t go to church on Sunday, don’t get on my knees to pray, or memorize the books of the Bible, I got my own special way
TOM WAITS

Myself Prayer Religious
The folks who know the truth aren’t talking. The ones who don’t have a clue, you can’t shut them up!
TOM WAITS

Talk Truth Yourself
We are all just monkeys with money and guns.
TOM WAITS

Monkey Reality Weapon
New York forces you to be in endless surreal situations.
TOM WAITS

End Force Surreal Yourself
I always had a great appreciation for jazz, but I’m a very pedestrian musician. I get by. I like to think that my main instrument is vocabulary.
TOM WAITS

Appreciation Greatness Music Myself Vocabulary
I was always laughing in church.
TOM WAITS

Laughter Myself Religious
Their memory’s like a train: you can see it getting smaller as it pulls away And the things you can’t remember Tell the things you can’t forget that History puts a saint in every dream.
TOM WAITS

Dreams Memories Remember Train Yourself
You’re innocent when you dream.
TOM WAITS

Dreams Innocence Yourself
I never told the truth so i can never tell a lie.
TOM WAITS

Lying Myself Talk Truth
On my gravestone, I want it to say, “I told you I was sick.”
TOM WAITS

Funny Grave Myself Sick
I’m the type of guy who’d sell you a rat’s asshole for a wedding ring.
TOM WAITS

Guy Ring Sell Type
I admit that I ain’t no angel, I admit that I ain’t no saint – I’m selfish and I’m cruel and I’m blind. If I exorcise my devils, well my angels may leave too. When they leave they’re so hard to find.
TOM WAITS

Angel Blind Finding Hard Myself Selfish
I’ve been riding on the crest of a slump lately.
TOM WAITS

Late Myself Ride
I don’t like the stigma that comes with being called a poet. So I call what I’m doing an improvisational adventure or an inebriational travelogue.
TOM WAITS

Adventure Call Improvisation Myself Poet
Writing songs is like capturing birds without killing them. Sometimes you end up with nothing but a mouthful of feathers.
TOM WAITS

Capture End Feature Song Writing
Break windows, smoke cigars, and stay up late. Tell ’em to do that, they’ll find a little pot of gold.
TOM WAITS

Break Finding Stay Window

The earth is not my home, I’m just passing by.

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The earth is not my home, I’m just passing by.

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