My songs are just little letters to me.
I know there is strength in the differences between us. I know there is comfort where we overlap.
Let’s grow old and die together. Let’s do it now.
Somedays the line I walk turns out to be straight – Other days the line tends to deviate.
Science chases money, and money chases its tail, and the best minds of my generation cannot make bail.
My distraction’s my defense against this lack of inspiration Against this slow deflation Yeah the further the horizon The more it holds my gaze The foreground’s out of focus but you know I kinda hope it’s just a phase Just a phase.
I envy your ignorance, I hear that it’s bliss.
A good brain ain’t diddley, if you don’t have the facts.
What doesn’t bend, breaks.
What makes you so lavish that you can afford to spend every sober moment feeling angry and bored?
I use my dress to wipe up my drink, I care less and less what people think.
How come I can pick my ears, but not my nose? Who made up that rule anyway? How can you say that’s the way it is, that’s just the way it goes, why don’t you decide fore yourself what you can do?
Now I wonder who is gonna be president: Tweedle Dumb, or Tweedle Dumber – And who is gonna have the big block buster box office this summer.
Lying in bed, you know, you don’t seem so tall.
Self-Preservation is a full-time occupation.
You have to be able to access the profoundly spiritual understanding that people’s actions, even their very identity, are not the whole truth of who they are.
Fear is inky. Fear stains the white sheet of consciousness that one comes swaddled in and no amount of earthly scrubbing can make it completely clean again.
Those who sit furthest from the center of power, see it the clearest.
If you get caught with your pants down, take ’em off.
One breath at a time is an acceptable plan, she tells herself.
As I lay there in my bed, with only the armor of my eyelids shut tight, I learned to completely leave my body. I learned to develop my escape fantasies into plans.