I Just Want To Be A Guy

I Think I Would Really Lay Down And Die. Music Comes From A Very Primal, Twisted Place. When A Person Sings, Their Body, Their Mouth, Their Eyes, Their Words, Their Voice Says All These Unspeakable Things That You Really Can't Explain But That Mean Something Anyway. People Are Completely Transformed When They Sing; People Look Like That When They Sing Or When They Make Love. But It's A Weird Thing—at The End Of The Night I Feel Strange, Because I Feel I've Told Everybody All My Secrets.

Kiss Me, Please Kiss Me But Kiss Me Out Of Desire, Babe, And Not Consolation You Know It Makes Me So Angry 'cause I Know That In Time I'll Only Make You Cry, This Is Our Last Goodbye.

The People Who Raised Me Musically Are My Mother, Who Is A Classically Trained Pianist, And My Stepfather.

My Favorite Kind Of Music Is The Stuff That Stops Time. You Put Something On To Sit There And Let An Experience Go Through You. To Look At Yourself Clearly Through A Song. It's True Of All Art, All Mediums, But For Some Reason Music Has A Direct Line Straight Into People.

I'm Lying In My Bed, Blanket Is Warm, This Body Will Never Keep Me Safe From Harm. I Still Feel Your Hair, Black Ribbons Of Coal. Touch My Skin To Keep Me Whole. If Only You'd Come Back To Me. To Feel You At My Side, Wouldn't Need No Mojo Pin To Keep Me Satisfied.