The men who could not fight, in a war that didn't seem right. You let them come home, America.

His songs were soon curled on the lips of the world, they had earned him the highest acclaim. And yet his greatest desire was the simple warmth of love's fire, cause it's cold on the dark side of fame.

Take your tongue out of my mouth, I'm kissing you good-bye.

This world that I live in is empty and cold/the loneliness cuts me and tortures my soul.

I say, Lord, do right be me, I'm tired of being lonesome, on'ry, and mean.

The villains have turned into heroes. The heroes have turned into heals.

I never have any problem getting enthusiastic with a good song and a good band.