I drive a Mustang. A 2005 five-speed GT convertible.

It was 22 years of work in a row, right up until 1987. Twenty-two years in a row-either on tour, writing an album, or recording an album. It wasn't until 1987 that I was able to take a breath.

Sometimes you can hear them talk, other times you can't. All the same old cliches, is that a woman or a man?

It went on yesterday and it's going on tonight, somewhere there's somebody ain't treatin' somebody right.

I guess I lost my way, there were so many roads. I was living to run, and running to live, never worried about paying or even how much I owed.

I write a lot of songs people don't hear. I really just enjoy the process. I finish 'em all. I don't think there's a whole lot of difference between the bad ones and the good ones.

I was a runner, a failed quarterback, third-string quarterback, but in track I was a 2-miler.