We're being treated to the wisdom of some puffed up, little fart. Doing exactly what I used to do, pretensions to anarchy and art.

The government bugged the men's room in the local disco lounge.

No shame, no solution, no remorse, no retribution, just people selling t-shirts.

There are people in your life who've come and gone, they let you down and hurt your pride. Better put it all behind you, life goes on, you keep carrying that anger, it'll eat you up inside.

I'm blessed with a pretty good voice. So just sitting back there banging on the tubs wasn't enough.

I have a bad back partially from playing the drums and singing. I used to have to hold my body in such a position that my spine got out of alignment.

How can love survive in such a graceless age? The trust and self assurance that lead to happiness, they're the very things we kill.