All I want to do, is write rock and roll that you could listen to as you got older, and it wouldn’t lose anything; it would be timeless, in the subject matter and the literacy of the lyrics.
When the past makes you laugh and you can savor the magic that lets you survive your own war, you’ll find that that fire is passion and there’s a door up ahead – not a wall.
Give me your hungry, your tired, your poor, that’s what the Statue of Bigotry says. Your poor huddled masses, let’s just club them to death, and get it over with.
