I met a young man who was wounded in love, I met another man who was wounded in hatred.

I have dined with kings, I've been offered wings. And I've never been too impressed.

There are many here among us who feel that life is but a joke. But you and I, we've been through that, and this is not our fate, so let us not talk falsely now, the hour is getting late.

They asked me for some collateral and I pulled down my pants.

Last night I danced with a stranger, but she just reminded me you were the one.

That's another way of writing a song, of course. Just talking to somebody that ain't there. That's the best way. That's the truest way. Then it just becomes a question of how heroic your speech is. To me, it's something to strive after.

Patriotism is the last refuge to which a scoundrel clings.