If God Wanted Us To Fly, He

I Usually Start With The Words. The Rhythm Of The Words Gives Me The Rhythm Of The Song, And Then I Look For The Musical Highlights In It To Carry It.

Some Critics Are Emotionally Desiccated, Personally About As Attractive As A Year-old Peach In A Single Girl's Refrigerator.

My Liveliness Is Based On An Incredible Fear Of Death. In Order To Keep Death At Bay, I Do A Lot Of "yah! Yah! Yah!" And Death Says, "all Right. He's Too Noisy And Busy. I'll Wait For Someone Who's Sitting Quietly, Half Asleep."

There's Not Enough Bad Taste! I Love Bad Taste! I Live For Bad Taste! I Am The Spokesman For Bad Taste!

Every Human Being Has Hundreds Of Separate People Living Under His Skin.