Indians scattered on dawn's highway bleeding/Ghosts crowd the young child's fragile eggshell mind.

No one gets out of here alive.

Most people love you for who you pretend to be.

How can I set free anyone who doesn't have the guts to stand up alone and declare his own freedom?

A man searching for paradise lost can seem a fool to those who never sought the other world.

I think in art, but especially in films, people are trying to confirm their own existences.

I like any reaction I can get with my music. Just anything to get people to think.