Let me fall out of the window/ With confetti in my hair

Well it's hotter 'n blazes and all the long faces / there'll be no oasis for a dry local grazier

The big print giveth and the small print taketh away.

Mostly I straddle reality and the imagination. My reality needs imagination like a bulb needs a socket. My imagination needs reality like a blind man needs a cane.

They have removed the struggle to find anything. And therefore there is no genuine sense of discovery. Struggle is the first thing we know getting along the birth canal, out in the world. It's pretty basic. Book store owners and record store owners used to be oracles, in that way; you'd go in this dusty old place and they might point you toward something that would change your life. All that's gone.

I always thought songs are movies for the ears and films are like songs for the eyes.

Got a head full of lightning, a hat full of rain.