Well, now, I've been accused of having too high an opinion of myself and I've been told that I don't have any conception of my true worth. I've sometimes been told these things by the same people in my life. Maybe they're right.
You see, I'm with Lord Buckley here. Honestly, I think that everyone is special. Really special. Unique. Seems to me, though, that the only perfect characters are fictional. Even the Jesus of the new testament seemed to enjoy the company of the riff raff. John Lennon seemed determined to show us his dark side, all the while preaching peace and love.
Me? I've racked up so many things that I'm ashamed of that I could fill several volumes. You don't have to strain your imagination. I've told you lots of it.
Lazy. I've been called lazy. I have to say that I'm comfortable working the imagination and that often results in callouses that don't show up on the fingers. If the universe needed me to learn how to tune a guitar properly the gods wouldn't have made Steve Connelly and Terry Ware. If I spend too much time thinking rationally about songs and career moves then I won't have time for my muse.
If I have any conceit, I suppose that it all has to do with my good intentions. I want to do right and, in fact, I still really want to save the world. I do the best I can and while I appreciate good constructive criticism, I'm well aware of my personal shortcomings and failures. I've done lots of apologizing over the years, knowing full well that it doesn't undo anything wrong that I've done. I regret every unkind word, every hurtful thought.
I'd sing on key if I could, too. I give you what I've got and I try to do better. I know about love and I will try to be better at it. When I get quiet, when I get still the space people still talk to me. They tell me about the joy.