We are all thieves. We are all liars, villains, and undesirables in this society. Every lyricist is, simultaneously, an autobiographer and fiction writer, the teller of truths and the twister of tales. Every composer is the Alpha and Omega over his work, the creator of a new and inexplicable world and its destroyer. Music is structured chaos, a mirror image of our world, with each song in our universal catalogue a snapshot of our own selves and our world. It defines a very specific part of us, a part which cannot be defined by any other medium or impetus of expression.
But, like any other form of expression, we cannot help but introduce our heroes and contemporaries into what we believe to be our original work. In the same way that any writer borrows some of his conventions, the painter borrows their paint choice and style, the musician borrows their speaking voice from those who came before them. So, we are all villains and thieves. We are all Alpha and Omega over our own domains, creators and destroyers. But, in the end, who really gives a flying fuck?