Better close your window tight or I might come in for a bite, I'm a sleep walker.
Life had become a reproduction: it was not the real thing.
I might even end up a rock and roll god, it might turn into a steady job.
Underneath that rude exterior, you've got a heart of gold.
Self destroyer, wreck your health, destroy friends, destroy yourself. The time device of self destruction, lies, confusion, start eruption.
Life is so groovy when your record is hot.