Sold my soul long ago, nothing left to choose. I will follow Satan. Dancing in the dark.
New York’s architecture alone is enough to inspire a whole album. In fact, that’s what happened at first – my early stuff was mostly just interpretations of landscapes.
I guess my strongest recurring theme is honoring love, even when it’s lost.
Like a groupie incognito posing as a real singer, life imitates art.
I wish I could escape into some alter-ego, just so I could feel more comfortable onstage.
I’m not really interested in a ton of female musicians but there is something about Britney that compelled me – the way she sings and just the way she looks.
I’m happy when things are just kind of calm. I love going to the ocean. I love driving. I love going to shows. Just being with people I really have fun with. I love the summer. I’m happy in the summer. Love hot, hot weather. I’m happy when I’m making a record, most of the time.
I have a personal ambition to live my life honestly and honor the true love that I’ve had and also the people I’ve had around me.
When things get bad enough, your only resort is to lie in bed and start praying.
I’m interested in the gorgeous side of life, but also familiar with the dark side too.
I don’t like live television, the only tip I have is just pray.
The road is long, we carry on, try to have fun in the meantime.
Don’t make me sad, don’t make me cry. Sometimes love is not enough and the road gets tough, I don’t know why.
A man’s ego is just as fragile as a woman’s heart.
I don’t really care about how good a song is, I only want them to reflect what I felt when I was writing them.
For me, the issue of feminism is just not an interesting concept. Whenever people bring up feminism, I’m like, god. I’m just not really that interested.
Down on the West Coast I get this feeling like it all could happen.
Dope and diamonds, dope and diamonds, that’s all that I want.
My baby lives in shades of blue, blue eyes and jazz and attitude.
Life is a velvet crowbar hitting you over the head, youre bleeding syrup amour, bleeding to death.