I Was A Working-class Macho Guy Who

All Kids Draw And Write Poetry And Everything, And Some Of Us Last Until We're About Eighteen, But Most Drop Off At About Twelve When Some Guy Comes Up And Says, "you're No Good." That's All We Get Told All Our Lives. "you Haven't Got The Ability. You're A Cobbler." It Happened To All Of Us, But If Somebody Had Told Me All My Life, "yeah, You're A Great Artist," I Would Have Been A More Secure Person.

When We Came Along There Was Only Decca, Philips And Emi Who Could Really Produce A Record For You. You Had To Go Through The Whole Bureaucracy To Get Into The Recording Studio. You Were In Such A Humble Position, You Didn't Have More Than 12 Hours To Make A Whole Album, Which Is What We Did In The Early Days.

A Very Merry Christmas And A Happy New Year Let's Hope It's A Good One Without Any Fear.

Pools Of Sorrow. Waves Of Joy.

The Lyrics Stand Today (1980). They're Still My Feeling About Politics. I Want To See The Plan. I Want To Know What You're Going To Do After You've Knocked It All Down. I Mean, Can't We Use Some Of It? What's The Point Of Bombing Wall Street? If You Want To Change The System, Change The System. It's No Good Shooting People.