Now you wear your skin like iron

I don’t envision a long life for myself. Like, I think my life will run out before my work does, y’know? I’ve designed it that way.

There are only two kinds of songs; there's the blues, and there's zip-a-dee-doo-dah.

Well I was born a rambler friends, and I intend to die that way. It could be twenty years from now it could be most any day. But if there ain't no whiskey and wimen lord behind those heavenly doors, I'm gonna take my chances down below and of that you can be sure.

Sorrow and solitude, these are the precious things/ And the only words that are worth remembering.

Now the dark air is like fire on my skin, And even the moonlight is blinding

I'd like to write some songs that are so good that nobody understands them. Not even myself.