Daydreamin' drugs the pain of living.

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.

Back then, I didn't have a big organization around me. I was just a kid with a guitar, traveling around. My responsibility basically was to the art, and I had extra time on my hands. There is no extra time now. There isn't enough time.

A few drinks later you're not so choosy when the closing lights strip off the shadows on this strange new flesh you've found.

My name had gone stale, and no matter how progressive I got, it was my time to die.

I like to move around. I travel. I've driven across country by myself.

I still believe in the power of the word, that words inspire.