Hallelujah" "Your faith was strong but you needed proof. You saw her bathing on the roof. Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you. She tied you to a kitchen chair, she broke your throne, and she cut your hair. And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah.

Raise a million filters and the rain will not be clean, until the longing for it be refined in deep confession.

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

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

This mental space is occupied and everything is mine.

Poetry is a verdict rather than an intention.

It is different [to perform in Israel] because it arises from very deep wells of affiliation.