'I found these songs in the alleys and streets. Under a dumpster. In the remains of discarded trash. Faded phone numbers and addresses on cigarettes packs. In empty clubs, gas station pumps and front page headlines. On the bottom of a styrofoam cup. In the last drag, stuffed in the glove compartment. Between sofa cushions. On the side of the interstate. Waking up beside her, watching two worlds collide. In the dives and diners. At cheap no tell motel rooms where you sleep in your clothes, shoes on. Stopping when I saw something shiny. Walking through the ditch, kicking at the tall grass, searching for a dime. Living hand to mouth and waking up to stove top coffee. In the madness of a rich man's town, where the poor and elite collide. There in the midnight hours, I'd sometimes peel back the gauze and poke it to see if still hurt.'