Sometimes I think the playing field is certainly not even. You know, it's just not.

You went to Woodstock and all that trash, your generation is fading fast.

I'm jackin' off reading Playboy on a hot afternoon, I'm a three time loser.

I have enough music coming out of my kids' bedrooms when I'm at home.

Yeah, I'll pay your cab fare home, you can even use my best cologne, just don't be here in the morning when I wake up.

I don't enjoy songwriting.

Should I string her up or strangle her in bed, suffocate that venomous head? Or perhaps I'll just whip her to death. Listen, do me a favor, kill my wife.