Smiths songs certainly have an astonishing afterlife.
I still don't belong to anyone - I am mine.
I am stuck in the dream of an album that sells well not because of marketing, but because people like the songs.
I normally live in Los Angeles, if you can call it normal living.
And make no mistake, my friend, your pointless life will end; but before you go, can you look at the truth?
Why pamper life's complexities when the leather runs smooth on the passenger seat?