I'm not on any crusade.

You’re driving with your eyes closed.

I don’t mind doing two or three Eagles songs and playing the drums. I’m not one of those artists who’s going to sit here and deny the past.

So much time weeping and wailing and shaking our fists, creating enemies that really don’t exist.

I don’t care what anybody says about Ringo. I cut my rock-n-roll teeth listening to him.

Let hope inspire you, but let not idealism blind you. Don’t look back, you can never look back.

Who knows how long this will last, now we’ve come so far so fast.

For every moment of joy Every hour of fear For every winding road that brought me here For every breath, for every day of living This is my Thanksgiving.

We’re being treated to the wisdom of some puffed up, little fart. Doing exactly what I used to do, pretensions to anarchy and art.

To want what I have, to take what I’m given with grace. For this I pray...