I grew up reading Shakespeare and Mark Twain.

Let the disappointments pass, let the laughter fill your glass.

I let her do some of my laundry and she slipped in a few meals in between, and next thing I remember, she was all moved in.

I wrote the song For A Dancer for a friend of mine who died in a fire. He was in the sauna in a house that burned down, so he had no idea anything was going on. It was very sad.

Say a prayer for the pretender, who started out so young and strong only to surrender.

I was doing my best Bogart, but I was having trouble getting into her jeans.

When I really started liking music was when I could play some of it myself, and after a couple of years of playing folk music, I kinda rediscovered those hits that were on the radio all the time when I was a kid.