I Use To Live In A Room

You May Almost Forget The Smell Of Your Family.

Imagination Is The Key To My Lyrics. The Rest Is Painted With A Little Science Fiction.

Telephone Message On His Manager's Answering Machine Shortly Before Dying Of Heroin Overdose: I Need Help Bad, Man.

If It Was Up To Me, There Wouldn't Be No Such Thing As The Establishment.

The Smiling Portrait Of You Is Still Hanging On My Frowning Wall.