I Live In A Box Of Paints

Love Is A Very Hard Feeling To Keep Alive. It's A Very Fragile Plant.

I Didn't Think I Had Much Of A Following In The South. I Thought I Was Anonymous Down There So I Kept To The South. But I Found In Certain Pockets That I Was Quite Recognizable And I Just Hit A Wig Store.

What I Do Is Unusual: Chordal Movements That Have Never Been Used Before, Changing Keys And Modalities Mid-song.

We're Captive On The Carousel Of Time, We Can't Return We Can Only Look Behind.

Augustine, Anne Sexton And Sylvia Plath Are Confessional Writers And All Three Make Me Sick. I Have Nothing In Common With Them.