When they bury me in a church and chuck earth on my grave, I'd like the words 'Well, at least he tried' engraved on my tombstone.

Because ENOUGH is TOO MUCH! And look around ...can you blame us?!

You may not realize this, but people have the power to change the world.

These tears I'm wailing, I spill not without reason. Remove them, my dearest love. Take me to the place I've been dreaming of, where the grotesquely lonely meet the grotesquely lonely and they whisper, just very softly, Please be mine, Dearest Love.

Each year of life brings us nearer to our decline, but I will continue to seek a listener until I'm dead in a ditch.

It doesn't stop. It really doesn't stop. It's the way I live every single day. I don't do anything else. I have no other interest other than music. At all.

It's the refuge for the mentally deficient. It's made by dull people for dull people.