I want to know what became of the changes we waited for love to bring/Were they only the fitful dreams of some greater awakening?

And while the future's there for anyone to change, still you know it's seems, It would be easier sometimes to change the past.

Eleven on a scale of ten, honey, let me introduce you to my redneck friend.

Don't confront me with my failures, I had not forgotten them.

Let the music keep our spirits high, let the buildings keep our children dry, let creation reveal its secrets by and bye.

More than a career, I feel that I've got a function. I see things in a much more holistic way. Some people bake the bread, and some people write the songs.

Caught between the longing for love, and the struggle for the legal tender, where the sirens sing and the church bells ring, and the junk man pounds his fender. Where the veterans dream of the fight, fast asleep at the traffic light, and the children solemnly wait for the ice cream vendor.