Well morning came, and it dressed the sky in a lovely yellow gown. Shopping malls are opening in that narrow hallway of downtown, filled with people who are shopping for their lovers and their friends, singing "I won't ever be lonely again

For a song I was bought Now I lie when I talk With a careful eye on the cue card. Onto a stage I was pushed, With my sorrow well rehearsed. So give me all your pity and your money, now (all of it).

And me I'm in my bedroom drawing in my notebook Because my hand thinks I'm an artist But my heart knows I'm a poet It's just words they mean so little to me.

There's a very fine line between one person's reality and another person's fantasy.

I do think that music has a special ability to get behind enemy lines and win hearts and minds.

I've given up trying to understand what people think about me.

I think there's a danger, for me at least, in retreating and going inward and depression. I have to stay diligent against that tendency.