When the wagon comes, I'm driving. All the tattoos in the world won't get you into heaven and I'm surely not paying a stranger to burn me with hot needles. I'm pretty sure that I know who I am. If I weren't so lazy I would dazzle you with melodies that would make you tear up before the bridge. In fact, I'm so shiftless that lots of my major works don't have bridges.
We live for a little while and we're gone. They're not gonna remember anything but the love. That Land Rover? Rust waiting to happen.
Horses with short noses and cards that were good, but never good enough.