Each Day Is A Drive Through History.

Lying On Stained, Wretched Sheets With A Bleeding Virgin We Could Plan A Murder Or Start A Religion.

Sex Is Full Of Lies. The Body Tries To Tell The Truth. But, It's Usually Too Battered With Rules To Be Heard, And Bound With Pretenses So It Can Hardly Move. We Cripple Ourselves With Lies.

I Think, In These Days, Especially In The States, You Have To Be A Politician Or An Assassin Or Something, To Really Be A Superstar.

I See Myself As A Huge Fiery Comet, A Shooting Star. Everyone Stops, Points Up And Gasps "oh Look At That!" Then - Whoosh, And I'm Gone... And They'll Never See Anything Like It Ever Again... And They Won't Be Able To Forget Me - Ever.

The World We Suggest Is A New Wild West. A Sensuous Evil World. Strange And Haunting, The Path Of The Sun.