Give Me Spots On My Apples, But

I Live In A Box Of Paints I'm Frightened By The Devil And I'm Drawn To Those Ones That Ain't Afraid

My Parents Told Me I'd Point To A Bed Of Flowers And Say 'pink. Pretty,' Before I Knew Any Other Words.

Once I Got The Open Tunings For Some Reason, I Began To Get The Harmonic Sophistication That I Heard That My Musical Fountain Inside Was Excited By. Once I Got Some Interesting Chords To Play With, My Writing Began To Come.

When I Think Of Your Kisses My Mind See-saws.

Acid, Booze, And Ass, Needles, Guns, And Grass, Lots Of Laughs.