What I try to do probably doesn't come out. What I've worked out what I do - I might not be right - is to do something very personal, and then suddenly I look at it, up in the air. I blow it up and look at it and then I come down again - a better man.
Underneath that rude exterior, you've got a heart of gold.
What are we living for? Two roomed apartment on the second floor?
I've written so many songs about Englishmen, I have to go elsewhere.
Plastic man got no brain, plastic man don't feel no pain.
People take pictures of the Summer, just in case someone thought they had missed it, and to proved that it really existed.