Revenge: it's a dream of flames fueled by scorched remains that are lit to a torch and brought back upon the one who burned you.
Maybe there is no Heaven. Or maybe this is all pure gibberish__ product of the demented imagination of a lazy drunken hillbilly with a heart full of hate who has found a way to live out where the real winds blow__o sleep late, have fun, get wild, drink whisky, and drive fast on empty streets with nothing in mind except falling in love and not getting arrested . . . Res ipsa loquitur. Let the good times roll.
Generation of Swine: Tales of Shame and Degradation in the '80's
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Maybe there is no Heaven. Or maybe this is all pure gibberish__ product of the demented imagination of a lazy drunken hillbilly with a heart full of hate who has found a way to live out where the real winds blow__o sleep late, have fun, get wild, drink whisky, and drive fast on empty streets with nothing in mind except falling in love and not getting arrested . . . Res ipsa loquitur. Let the good times roll.
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This isn__ how things were supposed to happen. I was supposed to be me. Not this.
Blame is the creed of the disempowered.
It ain't the blows we're dealt that matter, but the ones we survive.