In Every Spoof I Make Real Love

I Love Spaghetti And Sex, Sometimes Together. My Dream Of Heaven Is Walking Naked Through Fields Of Pasta Fazool.

I Usually Start With The Words. The Rhythm Of The Words Gives Me The Rhythm Of The Song, And Then I Look For The Musical Highlights In It To Carry It.

I Don't Know What To Say So I'll Just Say What's In My Heart...badoom, Badoom, Badoom.

If God Wanted Us To Fly, He Would Have Given Us Tickets.

I Started With [leo] Tolstoy And I Was Overwhelmed. Tolstoy Writes Like An Ocean, In Huge, Rolling Waves, And It Doesn't Look Like It Was Processed Through His Thinking. It Feels Very Natural. You Don't Question Whether Tolstoy's Right Or Wrong. His Philosophy Is Housed In Interrelating Characters, So It's Not Up For Grabs.