Sometimes I feel I know strangers Better than I know my friends Why must a beginning Be the means to an end? The stones from my enemies These wounds will mend But I cannot survive The roses from my friends.
But I would never insult the people that love this music and I would never insult the blessing of music in my life and I would never insult myself by playing uninspired music.
Every single time I step into the studio, I say, ‘Can I still do this? Do I still have it? Have I ever had it?’ I suppose there’s a good amount of self-loathing that goes into any form of artisanship.
Wish there was something that I could say or do, I can resist anything but the temptation from you. But I’d rather walk alone than chase you around, I’d rather fall myself then let you drag me on down.
Some things You have to let be lost Some battles, some battles You have to leave unfought. Then the truth just wastes away In all we dare not say. And in all we can’t explain But I faithfully remain.
I’m more afraid of falling than I am of flying high. I’m not as scared of dying as I am of growing old. Every battle has its glory and its consequence.
The music is in the lead here, and a large part of this, I have no idea what I’m doing. I feel a closer bond with the craft of songwriting, stronger than I ever have.
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