In honor of the Boss's birthday, I am stating to the world that I am reclaiming my fandom.

You’re a thorn in my side, you’re just sand in my eyes / Don’t talk to me.

What does one build monuments for? Someone or something DEAD.

Something like a subtle yet seismic shift happened last week: I began disconnecting from Bruce Springsteen.

I’m what you call a rock’n’roll bastard ... you either love me or you hate me.

He was the boss, the doctor, the angel of soul / King of the Jersey Shore, crown prince of rock’n’roll

Glory daze / The best is yet to come / Glory daze /To the beat of a different drum / Glory daze, glory daze.