I'd Rather Make Music Than

Later In The Evening When You Lie Awake In Bed With The Echoes From The Amplifiers Ringing In Your Head.

I Write Probably 80 Percent Of My Stuff Over The Winter.

I Can Only Get My Drummer In The Winter; He Plays With Grand Funk All Summer.

Deep In My Soul, I've Been So Lonely, All Of My Hopes Fading Away. I've Longed For Love, Like Everyone Else Does, I Know I'll Keep Searching After Today.

I Work My Back 'til It's Racked With Pain, The Boss Can't Even Recall My Name.