I just do what I do. I like to make music
Sailing heart-ships through broken harbors out on the waves of the night, still the searcher must ride the dark horse racing alone in his fright.
As soon as you start talking about mystique, you have none.
Long, flat expanses of professionalism bother me. I'd rather have a band that could explode at any time.
Welfare mothers make better lovers.
Give a hippie too much money and anything can happen.