If you have ever spray-painted your girlfriends name on an overpass, you might be a redneck.
And we were Banksy on an overpass in New Orleans spray-painting porch lights on the hurricane. We were welcome mats for the un-forgiven. We never sold our windpipes to make a living. We were the letters sent to the wrong address, but opened anyway. We opened anyway.
It would be nice to abandon the verse-chorus-bridge structure completely, and make it so none of these things are definable. . . Make up new names for them. Instead of a bridge, you can call it a highway, or an overpass. . . Music should never be harmless.