Where it all ends I can't fathom, my friends. If I knew, I might toss out my anchor.
Wrinkles will only go where the smiles have been.
My head hurts, my feet stink, and I don't love Jesus. It's that kind of morning.
I slowly surrender to the child in me who can't say goodbye.
They send you off to college, try to gain a little knowledge, but all you want to do is learn how to score.
I always said that I wouldn't use a teleprompter, and if I start to sing real flat, I'll hang it up.