Much Of Songwriting Is Simply A Mystery.

...everything Looks Worse In Black And White.

We Work Our Jobs, Collect Our Pay, Believe Were Gliding Down The Highway, When In Fact We're Slip Sliding Away.

And You Read Your Emily Dickinson, And I My Robert Frost. And We Note Our Place With Bookmarkers That Measure What Weve Lost.

My Life So Common It Disappears And Sometimes Even Music Cannot Substitute For Tears.

Given All The Facts That I'm Young And I'm In Good Health And I'm Famous - That I Have Talent, I Have Money - Given All These Facts, I Want To Know Why I'm So Unhappy.