Nobody Notices Me. Nobody Thinks

I'd Rather Spend My Time Looking At The Sky Than Listening To Whitney Houston.

There Were Only Two Times In My Life When I've Actually Felt Down About Things And Gotten Myself Into A Full Mental Mess. One Of The Times Was In 1982. I Had A Horrible Time For A Few Months And Felt Pretty Desperate. Then Again In 1984, For Various Reasons, Not All Of Them Within My Control. Since Then, I Just Wander In And Out Of Black Moods.

I Don't Care Where The Cure Is Placed In The Pantheon Of Rock. I Don't Care If We're Perceived As Relevant. We're Never Worried How We Fit In. I Don't Even Want To Fit In.

I've Discovered Special Makeup By A Company Called M.a.c. You Could Wear It On The Surface Of The Sun And It Wouldn't Move.

But Everyone I Know Reaches A Point Where They Throw Out Their Arms And Go Beserk For A While; Otherwise You Never Know What Your Limits Are. I Was Just Trying To Find Mine.