I know a girl made of memories and phrases, lives her whole life in chapters and phases.
Wasting away again in Margaritaville, searching for my lost shaker of salt.
Maybe there is another who sees life not as a flickering candle but as a torch that can illuminate an undiscovered world.
Pickup's washed and you just got paid, with any luck at all you might even get laid.
Songwriters write songs, but they really belong to the listener.
He went to Paris looking for answers to questions that bothered him so. He was impressive, young and aggressive, saving the world on his own.