On a street of right and wrong in every inch of sadness, rocks and tanks go hand in hand with madness.
I'm cold as a razor blade, inches from madness.
I mean, Sting is one of my great buddies and I love him to death.
A couple of sounds that I really like are the sounds of a switchblade and a motor bike.
Top dog, top hat, move that muscle, move that fat.
He'd been drinking in a bar downtown, when he thought he heard a choir of angels singing in the Tiki Lounge. And that's when he got religion.