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 wrote 'Big Yellow Taxi' on my first trip to Hawaii. I took a taxi to the hotel and when I woke up the next morning, I threw back the curtains and saw these beautiful green mountains in the distance. Then, I looked down and there was a parking lot as far as the eye could see, and it broke my heart this blight on paradise. That's when I sat down and wrote the song.

I paint my joy and I sing my sorrow.

Inside your own self pity there you swim, in sinking down to drown her voice still haunts you, and only with your laughter can you win.

I assume there must be some kind of genetic thrust. My two grandmothers were very different, but both of them were frustrated musicians.

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

Richard got married to a figure skater, and he bought her a dishwasher and a coffee percolator.