Come into my life, here where nothing matters. Come into my life, roll away the gloom.

I'd break out in hives if I had to sing (`Stairway to Heaven') in every show. I wrote those lyrics and found that song to be of some importance and consequence in 1971, but 17 years later, I don't know. It's just not for me. I sang it at the Atlantic Records show because I'm an old softie and it was my way of saying thank you to Atlantic because I've been with them for 20 years. But no more of `Stairway to Heaven' for me.

The kind of vocal exaggeration that I developed was based on what key songs were in.

Now and again there will be the occasional joke about owing someone two dollars from the days in '63 when I was a broke blues singer with a washboard, but it's good. I'm happy.

I’m pleased with how ridiculous I am. I like me. Though I’m not a huge fan. I know when to switch me off.

Finding another way to do what I know I can do pretty well. A way that stimulates me. I'm always on some sort of learning curve. If I can continually be surprised then I'm alert.

There's nothing new under the sun - you just get a can of paint out.