Prejudice doesn't make me mad. It just - I guess 'pisses me off' is the word.
Back in the class room, open your books, keep up, the teacher don't know how mean she looks.
Rock is my child and my grandfather.
Praise doesn't mean anything to me. I don't judge myself.
I would sing the blues if I had the blues.
Could you imagine the way I felt, I couldn't unfasten her safety belt. All the way home I held a grudge, for the safety belt that wouldn't budge.