Bob Dylan told me in a dream. We were in a bar. He said to me: So I heard you killed a man. He wore a cowboy hat. His jacket was leather. He told me that the world is full of men who think they can kill and then some of them do and there is no tragedy in that because those are the margin-few who never planned to follow the word of God anyway. He said all the ghosts in the world are those that haunt the men that killed them like that one over there that's in every dream I have. He asked me if I thought being killed was as bad as a ghost's vengeance well it doesn't matter because God makes it equal in the end. I said why he said well because killing's wrong because God says so. He walked back through the swinging doors. His jingling spurs, his hunched back. So killing is wrong and we start from there.