It's funny, I get a little quieter with time. I don't want to chase my tail and one day repeat myself and repeat myself and one day have kids going to college and not have memories that I should, because I was too busy doing my thing.

What in the world would I sing for if I had it all?

I find a therapy in playing music, in many different ways. At this point, I'm incredibly grateful for the relationship that it's given me with the men that I play music with. It's a great journey, and I'm really grateful for that. And also, being able to scream at the top of my lungs in front of people is very therapeutic.

I want to figure out a way to not be stupid with money, then make a whole bunch of it, then I want to move to Outer Mongolia. I want to milk a yak. Maybe I'll just settle for a cow.

I know I have a very unusual style of playing, where other more recognized and technically proficient players might look at me and wonder what the heck I'm doing. The purpose of my learning to play the way I do was more to accompany my singing. I figured out a style where I'm mentally playing the drums over a simple melody.

One sweet world Around this star is spinning One sweet world And in her breath I'm swimming And here we will rest in peace

A lot of the time, I write a lot of angry stuff, but then I don't want to be a finger-pointer - I'd rather be a cheerleader than a judge. I don't want to preach as if I'm in some position of righteousness, but I do want to speak my mind and scream at the clouds and shout out of the pit of hopelessness that I sometimes think the human race is in.