We think we understand a song's lyrics but what makes us believe in them, or not, is the music

Deep down we've never been who we think we once were, and we only remember what never happened.

[H]e lay awake, dreading the dawn when he would have to say good-bye to the small universe he had built for himself over the years.

One can convert only a sinner, never a saint.

You young people never say anything. And us old folks don't know how to stop talking.

We think we understand a song's lyrics but what makes us believe in them, or not, is the music

She was seventeen, her entire life shining on her lips.