Kevin [Drew] beat me to the punch because when he first sent "Sister OK" and I'm listening to it, it took me to a place that I had not been to in a long time. It took me to a place when you're a teenager. I understand it all now, but in a moment of confusion, in a moment of trying to find some kind of solid ground in an environment that was quicksand in my life, it's that first line just kills me all the time: "Well it's just that your sister said you'd be OK."

There are times when, for many years, I've been irrelevant - and it was OK! I had my moment. No one is responsible for anyone else's dreams. I don't need a babysitter. I just needed to know that I could do this. I just think that my happiest time or my best time, upon reflection, is that I had the courage to do this.

I just know I was part of a moment, and everyone showed up with love. I'm just blown away by this all but you can feel it in listening [Forest Green], and it's hard to listen 'cos sometimes life distracts you or you run away from listening. We didn't know what we were doing.

I remember the day before my dad died, I was in a hospital room with him, and he had lived a long life. He was 94, and I helped him get up, and there were two windows separated by the partition. I took him to the first window, and he kind of found his way to the second window, and on the way there was a mirror, and he looked into it, and I saw through the corner of my eye, I remember the look on his face. What came over his face was "So I'm here. I've crossed that bridge."

I've lived a phenomenal life, and there's more life in me, but I'm here, I'm not yesterday, but all those yesterday's brought me here. So I'm very comfortable with that.

I first heard "Heaven Without a Gun" when Kevin [Drew] sent it to me, and there was this kind of beauty about it. I don't live that much in the literal world, so you kind of have to see beyond the veil of what you're being shown sometimes. To me, that's such a beautiful, wonderful sentiment.

I think with all of us, sometimes we're afraid to recognize that we're here.