I suppose an artist takes the elements of his life and rearranges them and then has them perceived by others as though they were the elements of their lives.
People talking without speaking,/ People listening without hearing...Sounds of Silence.
Every generation throws a hero up the pop charts.
My life so common it disappears and sometimes even music cannot substitute for tears.
All lies and jests, still a man hears what he wants to hear and disregards the rest.
You have underestimated my power, as you will shortly discover.