It Is Very Important What Not To

I Spent Most Of The Eighties, Most Of My Life, Riding Around In Somebody Else's Car, In Possession Of, Or Ingested Of, Something Illegal, On My Way From Something Illegal To Something Illegal With Many Illegal Things Happening All Around Me

At University, I Had Been Obsessed With Reading About The Lives Of Rimbaud And Baudelaire, And I Was Steeped In The Crazy Poets, And I Came To View My Early Subjects Through That Prism.

And For So Long, I Had Thought If I Was Going To Write A Song, Or Get "into" Something, I Had To At Least Smoke A Joint Or Something. And That Didn't Work Anymore. Once I Was Fairly Well Cleaned Out, Even A Little Bit Of A Drug Getting Into My Work Threw Me Off Kilter.

I Was A Pretty Nice Kid. Kind Of Quiet, But Quiet In Terms I Wasn't Going Out And Setting Fire To Anything. I Had A Big Mouth And I Was Creative Type, You Know.

I Am The Passenger, I Stay Under Glass. I Look Through My Window So Bright, I See The Stars Come Out Tonight. I See The Bright And Hollow Sky, Over The City's Ripped Backsides And Everything Looks Good Tonight.