“Arithmetic arithmetockTurn the hands back on the clockHow does the ocean rock the boat?How did the razor find my throat?The only strings that hold me hereAre tangled up around the pier.”

“Q: What’s hard for you?A: Mostly I straddle reality and the imagination. My reality needs imagination like a bulb needs a socket. My imagination needs reality like a blind man needs a cane. Math is hard. Reading a map. Following orders. Carpentry. Electronics. Plumbing. Remembering things correctly. Straight lines. Sheet rock. Finding a safety pin. Patience with others. Ordering in Chinese. Stereo instructions in German.”

“Well, it's either kiss me or kill me, that's how I see it.”

“It's very hard to stop doing things you're used to doing. You almost have to dismantle yourself and scatter it all around and then put a blindfold on and put it back together so that you avoid old habits.”

“Now its raining its pouringthe old man is snoringnow I lay me down to sleepI hear the sirens in the streetall my dreams are made of chromeI have no way to get back homeI’d rather die before I wakelike Marilyn Monroeand throw my dreams out inthe street and therain make ‘em grow”

“He likes a day in the studio to end, he says, "when my knees are all skinned up and my pants are wet and my hair's off to one side and I feel like I've been in the foxhole all day. I don't think comfort is good for music. It's good to come out with skinned knuckles after wrestling with something you can't see. I like it when you come home at the end of the day from recording and someone says, "What happened to your hand?" And you don't even know. When you're in that place, you can dance on a broken ankle.”

“I admit that I ain't no angel, I admit that I ain't no saint-- I'm selfish and I'm cruel and I'm blind. If I exorcise my devils, well my angels may leave too. When they leave they're so hard to find...”