I believe in my mask-- The man I made up is me I believe in my dance-- And my destiny
Keep away from fantasy. Shake off the image.
There's gonna be a general lack of toast in the neighborhood this morning.
I had a definite sense of somehow being a passenger in an evil vehicle crusing through Paradise.
When you die it's the end of your life.
I feel like I've never had a home, you know? I feel related to the country, to this country, and yet I don't know exactly where I fit in... There's always this kind of nostalgia for a place, a place where you can reckon with yourself.