This story never really had a point. It’s just a lull - a skip in the record. We are addresses in ghost towns. We are old wishes that never came true. We are hand grenades (and every word you say pulls the pin). We are all gods, we are all monsters.

Emo is over, you can all go home now

I’ve always been a dreamer, have always believed in the power of love and art and loud, life-affirming rock and roll, but, for the first time, I’m starting to have doubts. Can a dream even exist in reality? Or does it turn to stone the second it leaves your mind?

I want so badly to tell Her it’s going to be all right, that I’ll leave the band and forget this silly crusade. I want to tell Her that I am ready to settle for this life, that she is all I will ever need in the world, and that we’ll never be apart. I want to tell Her that I will protect Her forever. But none of that would be the truth. So I don’t say anything at all.

The only good thing about times of adversity is that you realize who your real friends and fans are - and the rest go away - which in my mind is an OK thing.

(before playing Headfirst Slide Into Cooperstown On A Bad Bet) I couldn't really come up with a short way to sum up this song, but I was watching the movie 'Adaptation' the other day and this sort of sums it up in my head. You are not who loves you. You are who you love. Always remember that.

Underwear. It's like a god damned leash. It also constantly reminds me of how funny I look naked.