Why must I be lonely in love?
I'm not the quiet sensitive little guy I was. I can't be. There's just too much after me.
I hate the road so much. I almost go into a cocoon with my own people out there.
Waiting for wisdom to open the cage, we forged in the fires of the innocent age.
The people who come to me are the people who are meant to come to me.
Death is there to keep us honest and constantly remind us we are free.