Wit & Attitude Quote by Eric Carr

Carr’s line lands with the weary clarity of someone who’s spent too much time around image-making. “I can’t say why people lie; they just do” isn’t a shrug so much as a boundary: he refuses to play detective for other people’s motives. Coming from a working musician in a famously theatrical rock ecosystem, it reads like a backstage survival skill. In scenes where persona is currency, “truth” isn’t always a moral category; it’s a liability, a bargaining chip, or an aesthetic choice.

The sentence structure does the work. He opens by denying certainty, then immediately asserts a certainty about behavior: people lie. That pivot captures a hard-earned lesson in the music industry’s social economy. You may never get the real story, but you’ll get a story. The second sentence widens the frame from judgment to pluralism: “Everyone has their own reasons.” It’s generous on the surface, but also quietly damning. If everybody’s got reasons, then lies aren’t anomalies; they’re baked into the system, normalized as personal strategy.

The subtext is less “lying is wrong” than “stop expecting confession.” Carr implies that demanding honesty can be naive in environments built on performance: bands manage narratives, labels manage launches, fans project myths, and even friends protect their roles. It’s also a musician’s version of emotional triage. If you accept that deception has motives - fear, loyalty, ambition, shame - you can navigate it without being consumed by it. That’s not cynicism for its own sake; it’s a way to keep playing while the stories swirl.