Playing The Drums Hurts My Back.

If Dirt Were Dollars, I Wouldn't Have To Worry Anymore.

No Shame, No Solution, No Remorse, No Retribution, Just People Selling T-shirts.

We Got The Bubble Headed Bleached Blonde Comes On At Five, She Can Tell You 'bout The Plane Crash With A Gleam In Her Eye, It's Interesting When People Die Give Us Dirty Laundry...

What Are These Voices Outside Love's Open Door, Make Us Throw Off Our Contentment, And Beg For Something More?

I Remember A Time When Things Were A Lot More Fun Around Here, When Good Was Good And Evil Was Evil, Before Things Got Fuzzy.