I’m torn between Fauré’s Requiem and The Long And Winding Road.

I’m living for ever, so I won’t be having one. But just in case, I can imagine My Way by Frank Sinatra belting out as I’m cremated or put in the ground.

Jump Around by House Of Pain, and Pull Up To The Bumper by Grace Jones: stuff people could dance to.

One of my favourite songs is Being Alive, from Company by Stephen Sondheim, but it would hardly be appropriate.

My teenage years in the Runaways: I was still naive enough to think good things about the world and life and people, and I was having fun playing rock’n’roll around the world, living the dream.

I don’t think I’d change anything: the bad forms you more than the good.

Right after 9/11, Kenny and I went to perform for the troops in Pakistan and Uzbekistan. As we were flying in, an electronic voice went off: “Warning: missile launch! Warning: missile launch!” The Taliban had fired a rocket at us. I was waiting to see the back of the plane blow up, but it didn’t and we landed.

I had a cafeteria job, serving food, and some people were really nasty. There was a stack of nice, cool plates, and a stack of hotter plates that had just come out of the kitchen. So, if a person was an arsehole, I’d hand them a hot plate with a smile and watch them deal with it.

An astronaut, an archaeologist, an actor, and a musician.

That my baseball team, Baltimore Orioles, is always in the basement.