If I live by illusions, you live by excuses.

When I die, I want people to play my music, go wild and freak out and do anything they want to do.

After awhile, your, your cheap talk don't even cause me pain, so let your bullets fly like rain.

Room Full Of Mirrors, that's more of a mental disarrangement. This says something about broken glass used to be all in my brain.

Sometimes I do a Dylan song and it seems to fit me so right that I figure maybe I wrote it. Dylan didn’t always do it for me as a singer, not in the early days, but then I started listening to the lyrics. That sold me.

I just hate to be in one corner. I hate to be put as only a guitar player, or either only as a songwriter, or only as a tap dancer. I like to move around.

Don't use your brain to play it, let your feelings guide your fingers.