I knew I wanted to sing when I was a very small boy. When I was probably 4 years old. My mother played a guitar and I would sit with her and she would sing and I learned to sing along with her.

I would take songs that I'd loved as a child and redo them in my mind for the new voice I had, the low voice.

When my wife died, I booked myself into the studio just to work, to occupy myself.

The beast in me Is caged by frail and fragile bars.

My arms are too short to box with God.

I say I'm not a singer, so that means I can't sing. But - doesn't it?

I have tried drugs and a little of everything else, and there is nothing in the world more soul-satisfying than having the kingdom of God building inside you and growing.