Broken glass. It's just like glitter, isn't it?

The world that surrounded me disgusted me so I chosen to invent one of my own.

You want to dance. You want to sing. Yeah, that feeling, of course, is beyond recollection really.

It's just about bein' yourself...even when you're on the dole, it's about your leather jacket. Music is the last refuge of the working class, along with football...in fact, gigs and riots are the only things left.

I'm not a suicidal person at all, but on paper it seems that I am. I think I'm really quite horrible to myself in many ways. You always think it's going to be fine, the body will repair itself. There will be another chance. But I'm 33 now. The body won't keep repairing itself. You know when you can flick a coin and catch it on your elbow, and flick it up and catch it on the back of your head? And then you can't even catch it with two hands any more. You realise something is wrong.

If you've lost your faith in love and music, Oh the end won't be long...

I don't really deal with the attention I receive to be honest. I build up a fantasy world around me that I inhabit. I cherry pick elements of literature, music, film, history and art, then weave them together to construct a fantasy reality to live in. It doesn't always work out though, I got evicted from my own fantasy once, which was quite embarrassing.