I want to know what became of the changes we waited for love to bring/Were they only the fitful dreams of some greater awakening?

Coffee in the morning, cocaine afternoons.

I'm sensitive, you know, about some things, and as some of my partners could attest to, incredibly insensitive.

Looking out at the road rushing under my wheels. Looking back at the years gone by like so many summer fields.

These days I seem to think about the things I forgot to do for you and all the times I had a chance to.

I taught myself to play the piano, because I wanted to play it.

I never was a very good singer.