It's about how whenever I fall in love, I have these expectations of the experience being a perfect dream, which, of course, ruins it. I imagine cradling my lover's head in my lap in a cab in the middle of the night, and drinking champagne in an elegant hotel suite. But life's rarely like that, and I usually end up walking home by myself in the rain.

My love of maple syrup. I've been known to knock back a can over a couple days: A swig here, a swig there, and next thing you know it's gone. It's a habit I have to stave off. I don't want to lose all my teeth.

And you will believe in love And all that it's supposed to be But just until the fish start to smell And you're struck down by a hammer.

I don’t really have a relationship with the guitar; it’s like my slutty lover, whereas I’m married to the piano

I would love to have a number one hit. The truth is if I don't get one, I'll be fine, but at the same time, the truth is that I'm dying for one, as well. But it's worth a shot, I think, while I still have cheekbones.

I was in the forest jumping around daffodils while everyone was high on heroin.

And I am left behind Corrupted crushed and blind All for a dream That in truth was never really mine.