I think, to be happy is to be interested and engaged.

It's not easy in this phosphorescent gloom telling waking dreams apart anyhow.

The Moth don't care when he sees The Flame. He might get burned, but he's in the game. And once he's in, he can't go back, he'll Beat his wings 'til he burns them black... No, The Moth don't care when he sees The Flame. . .The Moth don't care if The Flame is real, 'Cause Flame and Moth got a sweetheart deal. And nothing fuels a good flirtation, Like Need and Anger and Desperation... No, The Moth don't care if The Flame is real. . .

All that I need now is someone with the brains and the know-how to tell me what I want.

Something gets lost when you translate. It's hard to keep straight. Perspective is every thing.

Better take the keys and drive forever. Staying won't put these futures back together. All the perfect drugs and superheroes wouldn't be enough to bring me back to zero.

The king of the jailhouse and the queen of the road think sharing the burden will lighten the load.

But I can't confront the doubts I have.I can't admit that maybe the past was bad,and so, for the sake of momentumI'm condemning the future to deathso it can match the past.

Nightly you retrace your steps again to return to the scene of the crime. It's uncanny how you hover in the air of the wreckage that you left behind.

There comes a time when you swim or sink so I jumped in the drink 'cause I couldn't make myself clear. Maybe I wrote in invisible ink, oh I've tried to think how I could've made it appear.

Say you were split, you were split in fragments and none of the pieces would talk to you. Wouldn't you want to be who you had been? Well, maybe I'd want that too.

You drew a bird that was here, a kind of sweet chanticleer. But with a terrible fear that the cage couldn't tame