There was this book I read and loved, The story of a ship Who sailed around the world and found That nothing else exists Beyond its own two sails And wooden shell And what is held within. All else is sure to pass. We clutch and grasp And debate what's truly permanent.

I have on many occasions spoken my mind from stage. I have offered organizations table space by the merch booth. I have donated a dollar-a-ticket, or the entire guarantee, to different causes. I have registered voters. I have played on behalf of political candidates.

Love's an excuse to get hurt and to hurt. Do you like to hurt? I do, I do then hurt me.

Love's an excuse to get hurt.

A boycott is, inherently, a blunt instrument. It is an imperfect weapon, a carpet bomb, when all involved would prefer a surgical strike.

I like to feel the burn of the audience's eyes when I'm whispering all my darkest secrets into the microphone.

The world's become a little too mean.