I don't mind stealing bread
From the mouths of decadence
But I can't feed on the powerless
When my cup's already overfilled
But it's on the table, the fire's cooking
And they're farming babies, the slaves are working
Blood is on the table, the mouths are choking...
But I'm going hungry...
-- Temple of the Dog
This song makes me choke up and tear up.
All the people I want to reach are all of the most downtrodden, dispirited people who think they're alone. People who are now like I was, who need to find their way back to a reason to be alive.
How can I use my power to overwhelm people, to lure them to spend a few bucks. My art is and will always be a gift to people, to open minds, to delight, (I hope) to make them choke up and feel their hearts about to burst like this song makes me feel. I can't accept anything for that. I could never set conditions on this.
I would rather live like this. Just like this.