Music Is First, Lyrics Are

Birds... Scream At The Top Of Their Lungs In Horrified Hellish Rage Every Morning At Daybreak To Warn Us All Of The Truth. They Know The Truth. Screaming Bloody Murder All Over The World In Our Ears, But Sadly We Don't Speak Bird.

Why In The Hell Do Journalists Insist On Coming Up With A Second Rate Freudian Evaluation On My Lyrics When 90% Of The Time They've Transcribed The Lyrics Incorrectly?

The Future Of Rock Belongs To Women.

I Always Wanted To Experience The Street Life Because My Teenage Life In Aberdeen Was So Boring. But I Was Never Really Independent Enough To Do It. I Applied For Food Stamps, Lived Under The Bridge, And Built A Fort At The Cedar Mill.

It Must Be One Of Those Narcissists Who Only Appreciate Things When They're Gone. I'm Too Sensitive. I Need To Be Slightly Numb In Order To Regain The Enthusiasms I Once Had As A Child.