You have this mounting aggressive ignorance with the rabbit's foot of their particular religion. You don't really have any kind of spiritual law, just a kind of a rabid mental illness. The songs are a little slice of life.

I get the urge for going/But I never seem to go.

I wish I had a river I could skate away on?

Bows and flows of angel hair and ice cream castles in the air and feather canyons everywhere, I've looked at clouds that way.

All I really, really want our love to do is to bring out the best in me and in you too.

Nobody understood The Reoccurring Dream, but after September 11, when we were coerced to do a national duty and go out and shop, surely people could begin to see what I was getting at.

In a pure anonymous encounter you find a world alive and full of character. In New York, the street adventures are incredible. There are a thousand stories in a single block. You see the stories in people's faces. You hear the songs immediately. Here, in Los Angeles, there are fewer characters because they are all inside automobiles.