Just another lonely broken hero picking up the pieces of my mind. Running out of faith and hope and reason, I'm running out of time.

I'm not trying to twist people's heads around. I'm not trying to say, "Believe in me."

Just another lonely broken hero picking up the pieces of my mind. Running out of faith and hope and reason, I'm running out of time.

Being in Birmingham, I thought I was going to be a gangster or a bag-runner or a thief. I heard music and I was determined to get out of there.

There are no unbeatable odds, there are no believable gods.

My stay in Camp Betty was the longest I'd been without drink or drugs in my adult life. [...] At first, they put me in a room with a guy who owned a bowling alley, but he snored like an asthmatic horse, so I moved and ended up with a depressive mortician. [...] The mortician snored even louder than the bowling alley guy - he was like a moose with a tracheotomy.

Somebody said to me this morning, 'To what do you attribute your longevity?' I don't know. I mean, I couldn't have planned my life out better. By all accounts I should be dead! The abuse I put my body through: the drugs, the alcohol, the lifestyle I've lived the last 30 years!