You Fondle My Trigger, Then You Blame

I Don't Have A Big Thing About Leaving My Mark Or Being Historic.

He Goes Along Just As A Water Lily Gentle On The Surface Of His Thoughts His Body Floats Unweighed Down By Passion Or Intensity Yet Unaware Of The Depth Upon Which He Coasts And He Finds A Home In Me For What Misfortune Sows, He Knows My Touch Will Reap

In A Strange Way, I'm Way More Comfortable Onstage Than Anywhere Else.

Men Are My Bread And Butter. It's What I Live For! I Have No Shame About That.

You're All I Need And Maybe Some Faith Would Do Me Good.