Nothing can affect my voice, it's so bad.

Crimson flames tied through my ears Rollin' high and mighty traps Pounced with fire on flaming roads Using ideas as my maps "We'll meet on edges, soon," said I Proud 'neath heated brow. Ah, but I was so much older then, I'm younger than that now. Half-wracked prejudice leaped forth "Rip down all hate," I screamed Lies that life is black and white Spoke from my skull. I dreamed Romantic facts of musketeers Foundationed deep, somehow. Ah, but I was so much older then, I'm younger than that now.

[Bob] Dylan's broken-heart songs are so much better. Like "Simple Twist of Fate".

Bob Dylan wasn't a big star early on; it was the release of his Greatest Hits album in 1967, and the mainstream success of the stoner anthem "Rainy Day Women #12 & 35" ("Everybody must get stoned!"), that really put him on the mainstream map.

I felt like I might as well have been living in another part of the solar system.

The pump don't work cause the vandals took the handle

For whose sake did you live, for whose sake did you die? Forgive me, baby, for what I didn't do.