I'm concerned about how accessible guns are.

Sneaking out the back door to hand out with those hoodlum friends of mine.

For did my dreams come true when I looked at you. And maybe too, if you would believe, you too might be overjoyed, over loved, over me.

Music, at its essence, is what gives us memories. And the longer a song has existed in our lives, the more memories we have of it.

I might sing a gospel song in Arabic or do something in Hebrew. I want to mix it up and do it differently than one might imagine.

I'm too high, but I ain't left the ground.

We're stuck in fear and in not wanting to cross that most important bridge of understanding that we're more alike or not. We all cry, we all laugh.