Looking through old lyrics notebooks and noticing how much time and effort I had to have put into trying to be a one man punk rock tin pan alley to nowhere in the 90s, all these closely-written pages of intricate, internally-rhymed, love lorn songs and bits of what could have turned into songs most of which were never likely to be heard by anyone and have by now effectively just disappeared, all that's left of them being the scribbles. Like I was operating a kind of delusional self-staffed and -attended Cole Porter Fantasy Camp or something, and sometimes bits of it that only hinted at the extent of the total's insanity would find their way on to records, and people would say things like "oh that's [too] clever". So weird, because I don't remember having spent all that much time doing that when obviously I did, and of course kind of embarrassing like most found old writing. "You've come a long way baby, and it shows, and heaven knows you've gone through rough terrain; you may have changed your tune but it's too soon to ascertain..." Endlessly.