Yeah, I left Idaho at 17. You know, I graduated high school a year early and just, you know, the typical story, packed up my car and moved out.

When I'm in the car sometimes it's like, 'Yeah, man, just put on the pop music.' You know what I mean? I don't want to listen to Tom Waits.

I've already established my (political)machinery. It's like a car. It's fixed already. You just have to get in and drive it.

I remember being at Greenblatt's on Sunset, and some guy just walked straight up to me, and he had some bling on and whatever, and said something about a party down in Malibu and asked if I would jump in his car and go to the party. All I could think was, 'Who are you? I don't know you, and I don't care about how good your car is.'

Should we have background checks, waiting periods? To drive a car you have to pass a test that shows you know how to drive your car safely, you should have to do the same thing with guns.

Growing up in the Midwest, people don't drive Porsches and Ferraris. They drive Fords and Chevys. And so even if you have the opportunity to buy a more expensive car, it doesn't occur to you because it's not what you relate to.

I grew up where my parents would literally shove me in the car rather than have to say hello to a neighbor.

I definitely I prefer to sing in the car. I don't sing in the shower, maybe its because that's the one time I don't need to talk to anyone so I should just shut up, otherwise I'm just, you know, jibber jabber.

Whenever I drive under a yellow light, I always kiss my finger and tap it on the roof of the car.

These songs are old friends I have entertained myself with when I'm washing the dishes, driving to the store and walking down the aisles. The ones that you sing when you're driving in the car and as a singer you always go back to them.