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.

The first question that comes out of everybody's mouth, 'Did you bite the head off a bat?' And I did, so, next.

I advise that pregnant women do not come to my concerts.

When I was a practicing alcoholic, I was unbelievable. One side effect was immense suspicion: I'd come off tour like Inspector Clouseau on acid. 'Where's this cornflake come from? It wasn't here before.

I grew up having to piss in a bucket ’cos there was no indoor shitter, and now I have these computerised Japanese super-loo things that have heated seats and wash and blow-dry your arse at the touch of a button. Give it a couple of years and I’ll have a bog with a robot arm that pulls out my turds, so I don’t have to strain.

There are no impossible dreams.

I've got many, many demons that affect me on many, many levels.