Nor is it strange That after changes upon changes, we are more or less the same

When I was 15, I made a solo record. It made Artie very unhappy. He looked upon it as something of a betrayal.

Lord, I am a surgeon and music is my knife. It cuts away my sorrow and purifies my life.

I know a man He came from my home town He wore his passion for his woman Like a thorny crown He said "Dolores I live in fear My love for you's so overpowering I'm afraid that I will disappear

The dialogue between what's going on in the world and what's going on internally seems to be a natural thing - well, it's natural to me, anyway, to have these thoughts.

A man walks down the street. It's a street in a strange world. Maybe it's the third world. Maybe it's his first time around. He doesn't speak the language. He holds no currency. He is a foreign man. He is surrounded by the sound, sound of cattle in the marketplace, scatterlings and orphanages. He looks around, around he sees angels in the architecture spinning in infinity and he says, "Amen" and "Hallelujah!

Don't want to end up a cartoon in a cartoon grave yard.