Money doesn't talk, it swears.

Your heart is like the ocean, mysterious and dark.

There is a house in New Orleans they call the Rising Sun, and it's been the ruin of many a poor boy and God I know I'm one.

I didn't know whether to duck or to run, so I ran.

I see the turning of the page, curtain rising on a new age, see the groom still waiting at the altar.

I'm in love with my second cousin.

Music attracts the angels in the universe.