I Think A Poet Is Anybody Who

Music Can Save People, But It Can't In The Commercial Way It's Being Used. It's Just Too Much. It's Pollution.

My Father Probably Thought The Capital Of The World Was Wherever He Was At The Time. It Couldn't Possibly Be Anyplace Else. Where He And His Wife Were In Their Own Home, That, For Them, Was The Capital Of The World.

I Have Tried My Hand At Bribery, Blackmail, And Deceit. And I've Served Time For Everything, Cept Beggin On The Street.

I Don't Think I'm Tangible To Myself.

The Dirt Of Gossip Blows Into My Face And The Dust Rumors Cover Me. But If The Arrow Is Straight And The Point Is Slick, It Can Pierce Through Dust No Matter How Thick.