Each Time I Play A Song It

It's A Perfect Day For Letting Go.

Anyone Can Rehearse And Play Constantly Any Song In The World.

Everything I Do Has The Tinge Of The Finite, Of My Own Demise. At Some Point You Either Accept Death Or You Just Keep Pushing It Back As You Get Older And Older. I've Accepted It.

I Married Somebody Who Likes The Way I Look. If I Changed My Hair Every Year, And I Reinvented Myself In Time-honoured Pop Fashion, I Think Understandably The Person I'm Married To Would Grow Slightly Sick Of Me.

I Lose Myself In Music Because I Can't Be Bothered Explaining What I Feel To Anyone Else Around Me.