Only time will tell if it was time well-spent
Elvis up in Michigan and maybe out in Mars.
Forget that blind ambition, and learn to trust your intuition.
It's not the tales of Stephen King that I've read, I need protection from the things in my head . . .
The cheating was sweet, but my heart is beat. Don't tear it apart, please by-pass this heart.
We're just recycled history machines, cavemen in faded blue jeans.