There are a lot of places I like, but I like New Orleans better.

Princess on the steeple and all the pretty people, they're drinking, thinking that they got it made. Exchanging all kinds of precious gifts and things, but you'd better lift your diamond ring, you'd better pawn it, babe.

Heard ten thousand whispering and nobody listening. Heard one person starve, I heard many people laughing. Heard the song of a poet who died in the gutter.

Just a reminder, if you tell anyone about what happened with Jonah last night, I'll destroy all of my writing and never play music again.

The enemy is subtle, how be it we are so deceived, when truth's in our hearts and we still don't believe.

Everybody has their own idea of what's a poet. Robert Frost, President Johnson, T.S.Eliot, Rudolf Valentino - they're all poets. I like to think of myself as the one who carries the light bulb.

Peace will come With tranquility and splendor on the wheels of fire But will bring us no reward when her false idols fall.