The bands and the roadies, love 'em and leave 'em. It's pleasure to try 'em, but trouble to keep 'em.
I conceived in art college at the age of 20, near the end of term.
Give me spots on my apples, but leave me the birds and the bees, please.
Once I got the open tunings for some reason, I began to get the harmonic sophistication that I heard that my musical fountain inside was excited by. Once I got some interesting chords to play with, my writing began to come.
You win the lasting laurels with your laughter.
You feed it all your woes, the ghostly garden grows.