You can hide beneath the covers and study your pain, make crosses from your lovers, throw roses in the rain. Waste your summer praying in vain, for a savior to rise from these streets.

Go-kart Mozart was checking out the weather chart to see if it was safe outside.

To her Cheshire smile, I'll stand on file, she's all I ever wanted. But you let your blue walls get in the way of these facts.

When I die throw my body in the back and drive me to the junk yard in my Cadillac.

I don't know many artists who are not crazy.

Elvis is my religion. But for him, I'd be selling encyclopedias right now.

I was a guitar player on the streets of Asbury Park and already a member in good standing amongst those who lie in service of the truth - artists with a small A. But I held four clean aces. I had youth, almost a decade of hardcore bar band experience, a good group of homegrown musicians who were attuned to my performance style, and a story to tell.