Tell me where are the flashbacks they all warned us would come?

Being rich and famous seems to have its ups and downs. That's the price you pay for being troubadours and clowns.

When the good times come around, they gallup in like wild horses. You just try to stay on them for as long as you can. And when they throw you offyou just wait in the shade until they come around again.

Tonight I just need my guitar.

We're weird roman candles burning bright at both ends. At the end of the road's where this story begins. Where the green of the gulf meets the blue of the sea. What makes it all happen is still a mystery to me. But those crazy days and those crazy ways, we never want to undo. We'll be together, now and forever.

Is it ignorance or apathy? Hey, I don't know and I don't care.

Without geography you're nowhere.