(This was somewhat naive stuff I wrote when I was 23 years old)
May 14, 1974
I’m just too busy to cry right now so I guess I might as well laugh
It’s too late to say I’m sorry, perhaps it always was.
It’s too early for me to die, so I guess I’ll keep on living.
You made me mad; you made me cry; you made me do all sorts of terrible things; I’m trying to figure out what I did for myself.
If principle is all I have left, I’d better hold on tight before I lose that, too.