The doer and the thinker, no allowances for the other, as the failing light illuminates the mercenaries creed.
She's a warm fart at Christmas.
Ages passed I knew at last my life had never been.
I'll make love to you in all good places, under black mountains and open spaces.
Did you ever get the feeling that the story's too damn real?
Roll us down the mountain and I'm sure the fatman would win.