I couldn't even think about wanting to be something else; I wouldn't let myself visualize another life. But I wrote because I couldn't stop. It was a release, a mental exercise, a way of keeping sane.
You know the type: loud as a motorbike but wouldn't bust a grape in a fruit fight.
I'd rather die enormous than live dormant.
Only he without sin can tell me if my means justify my ends.
Everyone needs a chance to evolve.
When people say stuff like, "Oh, that's soft rock. I don't listen to that," I find that elitist. It's music-racist.