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.

He's swept with the broom of contempt and the rooms have an empty ring.

I'm a little young for retirement.

I'm your biggest fan, California, I'm coming home

My individual, psychological descent coincided, ironically, with my ascent into the public eye.

You can give me 400,000 hostile people and I won't even break sweat. If you give me 200 adoring people, my mouth will dry out.

All romantics meet the same fate some day. Drunk and cynical and boring someone in some dark cafe.