Now, There's Just So Much Imagery. Imagine

I'm In The Countryside Outside Of Paris, In A Beautiful Old Manor House. The Studio Is In The Basement, But We Decided To Set Everything Up In The Old Parlor And Dining-room Area So We Can Look At Each Other And (at) The Sunshine Coming Through The Stained-glass Windows. It's Pretty Idyllic, And I Think It's Spoiling Me. I'll Have To Go Back To Regular Life After This.

I Said I'd Stop For A Year, Which Was Inconceivable To Me And Everyone Around Me. It Seemed Like So Long. But Then, After That Year, I Looked Up And I Still Hadn't Gotten My Land Legs Back At All.

I Know More Than I Knew Before I Didn't Rest I Didn't Stop Did We Fight Or Did We Talk.

Songwriting Is A Really Fortunate Skill To Have To Frame Living And To Find New Ways To Observe Things You're Going Through.

When I Stopped Touring, It Was Like Trying To Stop A Bullet Train Or A Giant Lead Ball Falling From A 100 Stories Up - It's Momentum And It Doesn't Just Stop. I Drew A Line In The Calendar And Made It A Brick Wall And Just Stopped Dead. There Was No Other Way. It Would've Taken Another 100 Years To Slow Down Slowly. I Had To Let Myself Imagine A Calendar With No Lines; When Every Single Day Is Being Predetermined Six Months In Advance, There's No More Fluidity To Time.