Rock's always been the devil's music.
I always write well in New York.
For here, am I sitting in a tin can, far above the world. Planet Earth is blue, and there's nothing I can do... Though I'm past one hundred thousand miles, I'm feeling very still - and I think my spaceship knows which way to go. Tell my wife I love her very much.
Strung out on lasers and slash back blazers.
Visions of swastikas in my head, plans for everyone. It's in the Whites of my eyes.
I find it easier to write in these little vignettes; if I try to get any more heavy, I find myself out of my league.