I'll probably die by the time I reach 25. But I'll have lived the way I wanted to.
You just pick up a chord, go twang, and you're got music.
I just cash in on the fact that I'm good looking, and I've got a nice figure and girls like me.
Today everything's a conflict of interest.
We had a death pact, and I have to keep my half of the bargain. Please bury me next to my baby in my leather jacket, jeans and motorcycle boots. Goodbye.
Undermine their pompous authority, reject their moral standards, make anarchy and disorder your trademarks. Cause as much chaos and disruption as possible but don't let them take you ALIVE.