“when I was four years oldthey tried to test my I.Q.they showed me a pictureof 3 oranges and a pearthey said,which one is different?it does not belongthey taught me different is wrongbut when I was 13 years oldI woke up one morningthighs covered in bloodlike a warlike a warningthat I live in a breakable takeable bodyan ever-increasingly valuable bodythat a woman had come in the night to replace medeface mesee,my body is borrowedyeah, I got it on loanfor the time in between my mom and some maggotsI don't need anyone to hold meI can hold my ownI got highways for stretchmarkssee where I've grownI sing sometimeslike my life is at stake'cause you're only as loudas the noises you makeI'm learning to laugh as hardas I can listen'cause silenceis violencein women and poor peopleif more people were screaming then I could relaxbut a good brain ain't diddleyif you don't have the factswe live in a breakable takeable worldan ever available possible worldand we can make musiclike we can make dogenius is in a back beatbackseat to nothing if you're dancingespecially something stupidlike I.Q.for every lie I unlearnI learn something newI sing sometimes for the war that I fight'cause every tool is a weapon -if you hold it right.”

“I don't need anyone to hold me, I can hold my own.”

“I opened the fire doorto four lipsnone of which were minekissingtightened my belt around my hipswhere your hands were missingand stepped out into the coldcollar highunder the slate grey skythe air was smoking and the streets were dryand I wasn't joking when I saidGood Byemagazine quality men talking on the cornerFrench, no less much less of them then usso why do I feel like something's been rearranged?you know, taken out of context I must seem so strangekilled a cockroach so bigit left a puddle of pus on the wallwhen you and I are lying in bedyou don't seem so tallI'm singing now because my tear ducts are too tiredand my brain is disconnected but my heart is wiredI make such a good statisticsomeone should study me nowsomebody's got to be interested in how I feeljust 'cause I'm hereand I'm realoh, how I misssubstituting the conclusion to confrontation with a kissand oh, how I misswalking up to the edge and jumping inlike I could feel the future on your skinI opened the fire doorto four lipsnone of which were minekissingI opened the fire door”

“You broke me bodily.The heart ain't the half of it,And I'll never learn to laugh at itIn my good natured way.In fact, I'm laughing less in general,But I learned a lot at my own funeral.And I knew you'd be the death of me,So I guess that's the price I pay.”

“Every tool is a weapon if you hold it right.”

“We have to be able to criticizewhat we love,say what we have to say.Cause if you're not trying to make something better thenas far as I can tellyou are just in the way.”

“Art is why I get up in the morning, but my definition ends there. You know, it doesn't seem fair that I'm living for something I can't even define, but there you are, right there, in the meantime.”