I've Never Considered Musical Equipment Very Sacred.

I'm Really Interested In Smells. I Think I'd Like To Own A Perfumery Someday.

A Friend Is Nothing But A Known Enemy.

I Called Leo Fender, The Dead Guy, A Dork. Now I'll Never Get An Endorsement.

My Father Is Incapable Of Showing Much Affection, Or Even Of Carrying On A Conversation. I Didn't Want To Have A Relationship With Him Just Because He's My Blood Relative. It Would Bore Me.

Why In The Hell Do Journalists Insist On Coming Up With A Second Rate Freudian Evaluation On My Lyrics When 90% Of The Time They've Transcribed The Lyrics Incorrectly?