It's nine o'clock on a Saturday, the regular crowd shuffles in / There's an old man sitting next to me making love to his tonic and gin / He says, 'Son, can you play me a memory?/ I'm not really sure how it goes / But it's sad and it's sweet, and I knew it complete when I wore a younger man's clothes.'

When I see an entire community disenfranchised, it disturbs me. Not that I'm a message guy, per se. I write about people. I like to write about human beings, not crap political rhetoric. I've tried to avoid that all my life. When I wrote about soldiers in Vietnam, I wasn't trying to make a political statement. I was trying to write about how screwed things were for soldiers, and how they still are.

There's always a place for the angry young man with his fist in the air and his head in the sand. He's never been able to learn from mistakes, he can't understand why his heart always breaks.

I'm not the kind of guy who wants to be on a pedestal.

What if she figures out you're not very smart?

If you said good-bye to me tonight, There would still be music left to write.

Don't go changing to try and please me You never let me down before Don't imagine you're too familiar And I don't see you anymore I would not leave you in times of trouble We never could have come this far I took the good times, I'll take the bad times I'll take you just the way you are Don't go trying some new fashion Don't change the color of your hair. [...] I could not love you any better I love you just the way you are.