We used to play music for fun. Much more than now. Now nobody picks up a guitar unless they're paid for it.

There is a crack in everything, that's how the light gets in.

And what can I tell you, my brother, my killer, what can I possibly say? I guess that I miss you, I guess I forgive you, I'm glad you stood in my way

If you want a lover I'll do anything you ask me to. And if you want another kind of love I'll wear a mask for you.

The troubles came and I saved what I could save. A thread of light, a particle, a wave.

Be With Me In The Phases Of My Work Because My Brain Feels Like It Has Been Whipped And I Yearn To Make A Small Perfect Thing Which Will Live In Your Morning Like Curious Static Through A President's Elegy Or A Nude Hunchback Acquiring A Tan On The Crowded Oily Beach.

All the lousy little poets coming around trying to sound like Charles Manson.