You're like a cold beer, darling, on a long hot summer night.
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.
I see myself at 7:30 in the morning and it's not too pretty.
I did things with the microphone stand that no-one else has attempted to do.
You're in my heart, you're in my soul. You'll be my breath, should I grow old.
Lyrics are coming to you all the time. I get inspiration in the middle of the night.