Join the crazed institution of the stars.
He hears the silence howling catches angels as they fall, and the all time winner has got him by the fun.
Roll us down the mountain and I'm sure the fatman would win.
Give us Direction; the best of goodwill; Put us in touch with fair winds. Sing to us softly, hum the evening's song. Tell us what the blacksmith has done for you.
She's a nice girl, but her bad girl's better.
I'll pour a cup to you my darling, raise it up, say Cheerio.