“Our CrossOur little circle hides in the mind,It’s difficult to miss but hard to find,It goes unspoken but yet it speaks,From backward years to forward weeks,We can’t forget but why even try,Two of a kind doesn’t know goodbye,It’s a silent question that God won’t share,A breeze we feel but seems unfair,Distant, rare but only madness can see,It’s something deeper than any infinity,Because we walk this parallel path up and down,There is no circle to hold us circus clowns,So let’s give it a symbol and label it a loss,We will remember it always as we carry our cross.”

“If I knew what to doI’d do more than write a song for you”

“You ask me why I don’t speakNot a word at willBut write so much worth well over a mill’Well I value words like I value kissesA sober one, a closer one penetrates the heartDarling it’s how it mends it”

“There have been times I’ve felt so much art in my soul I grew sick of artists.”

“Music is the secret language that effortlessly connects our bodies, our minds, and our souls. I’m addicted to the lyrics— they speak to me in a way only he and I will understand. So, until it’s safe to speak my mind, I’ll speak to him through lyrics. I’m addicted to him. He’s a song I never want to end.”

“One difference between poetry and lyrics is that lyrics sort of fade into the background. They fade on the page and live on the stage when set to music.”

“Music is the beat of a drum that keeps time with our emotions.”

“God, come down, if you’re really there -Well, you’re the one who claims to care!”

“My task is set before me, girl My mission clear and true There’ll be black knights and dragons, girl But I will always come for you…”

“Anger’s like a battery that leaks acid right out of meAnd it starts from the heart ’til it reaches my outer me”

“Sing your life; any fool can think of words that rhyme.”

“Your faith was strong, but you needed proof…”

“Maybe you’ll change Abandon all your wicked waysMake amends and start anew againMaybe you’ll seeAll the wrongs you did to meAnd start all over, start all over again.Who am i kidding?Now, lets not get overzealous hereYoure always been a huge piece of shitIf i could kill you i wouldBut it’s frowned upon in all fifty statesHaving said that, burn in Hell.”

“A poet should be so crafty with words that he is envied even for his pains.”

“I find peace when I’m confused, I find hope when I’m let down, not in me but in you.”