Your old home town's so far away, but inside your head there's a record that's playing, a song called 'Hold On

I always liked the idea that America is a big facade. We are all insects crawling across on the shiny hood of a Cadillac. We're all looking at the wrapping. But we won't tear the wrapping to see what lies beneath.

Well, it's either kiss me or kill me, that's how I see it.

it ain't no sin, to take off your skin and dance around in your bones

I like Thelonious Monk, he's so gnarled, he's like a piece of machinery that's pulled up the bolts on the floor and gone off on its own.

But then I'm one of those guys that is still a bit afraid of the telephone, its implications for conversation. I still wonder if the jukebox might be the death of live music.

I think I have an adrenaline addiction, no question about that.