I Don't Know If My Songs Fit

Paper Or Razor Blade, Never Give Up And Just Remember Just To Hold Out More A Couple Years Ago I Couldn't Just Control That Thought You'd Find Me Buskin' On The Street When It Was Cold Outdoors And Now I'm Sweating On The Stage With The Sold Out Tours Writing Love Songs For The Sake Of It Never To Make A Hit

I Really Don't Know What's Good Or Bad Art Because All The Art I Like People Tell Me Is Tasteless.

Be A True Heart, Not A Follower.

When My Hair's All But Gone And My Memory Fades And The Crowds Don't Remember My Name When My Hands Don't Play The Strings The Same Way I Know You Will Still Love Me The Same.

The Tongue Has No Bones, But Can Break A Heart.