Have to correct my early reponse to the thing. It kept and kept on growing, and though it is still an old man's collection of songs - which makes it even more real in a world of real and fake juvenile braindeads - it developed an unstoppable, if slow, energy, like an old steam locomotive unrepentently puffing and pulling on. And the Dead Horse Lament is my favourite, even if my neighbour keeps asking about the "Doors song" I sang along to all summer.
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