Living Is Easy With Eyes Closed.

Songwriting Is About Getting The Demon Out Of Me. It's Like Being Possessed. You Try To Go To Sleep, But The Song Won't Let You. So You Have To Get Up And Make It Into Something, And Then You're Allowed To Sleep. It's Always In The Middle Of The Night, Or You're Half-awake Or Tired, When Your Critical Faculties Are Switched Off. So Letting Go Is What The Whole Game Is. Every Time You Try To Put Your Finger On It, It Slips Away. You Turn On The Lights And The Cockroaches Run Away. You Can Never Grasp Them...

He Laid It On George, Me And Our Wives Without Telling Us At A Dinner Party At His House. He Was A Friend Of George's, And Our Dentist At The Time. He Just Put It In Our Coffee Or Something. He Didn't Know What It Was, It Was Just, 'it's All The Thing,' With The Middle-class London Swingers. They Had All Heard About It And Didn't Know It Was Different From Pot Or Pills. And They Gave It To Us, And He Was Saying, 'i Advise You Not To Leave,' And We Thought He Was Trying To Keep Us For An Orgy In His House And We Didn't Want To Know.

I Get By With A Little Help From My Friends.

I Didn't Really Know That Much About The Maoists, But I Just Knew That They Seemed To Be So Few And Yet They Painted Themselves Green And Stood In Front Of The Police Waiting To Get Picked Off.

It's Wierd Not To Be Wierd.