Fly silly sea bird, no dreams can possess you, no voices can blame you for sun on your wings.

I see music as fluid architecture.

You feed it all your woes, the ghostly garden grows.

People used to say nobody can sing my songs but me, they're too personal.

I can't remember anything I ever wrote.

My parents told me I'd point to a bed of flowers and say 'Pink. Pretty,' before I knew any other words.

They'll crucify you for staying the same, and they'll crucify you for change. I'd rather be crucified for changing.