For All The Things I'm

I Think I'd Been Limiting Myself In Some Ways Just Writing In First Person All The Time.

Sometimes The World Seems Like A Big Hole. You Spend All Your Life Shouting Down It And All You Hear Are Echoes Of Some Idiot Yelling Nonsense Down A Hole.

Got No Place To Go, But There's A Girl Waitin' For Me Down In Mexico. She Got A Bottle Of Tequila, A Bottle Of Gin, And If I Bring A Little Music, I Could Fit Right In.

I'm Really Good In A Crisis, Because I Don't Panic.

I Can Remember Being Eight Years Old And Having Infinite Possibilities. But Life Ends Up Being So Much Less That We Thought It Would Be When We Were Kids, With Relationships That Are So Empty And Stupid And Brutal. If You Don't Find A Way To Break The Chain And Change In Some Way, Then You Wind Up, As The Rhyme Goes: A Murder Of One, For Sorrow.