I don't mind doing two or three Eagles songs and playing the drums. I'm not one of those artists who's going to sit here and deny the past.

Nobody on the road. Nobody on the beach. I feel it in the air, the summer's out of reach.

My love for you will still be strong after the boys of summer have gone.

Sharper than a serpents tongue, tighter than a bongo drum, quicker than a one night stand, slicker than a mambo band.

Sometimes you get the best light from a burning bridge.

Selling eight million copies of your first album will mess you up.

So much time weeping and wailing and shaking our fists, creating enemies that really don't exist.