I came here to drink, not to get laid.
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He drinks a whiskey drink, he drinks a vodka drink, he drinks a lager drink, he drinks a cider drink. He sings the songs that remind him of the good times.
Tell them what to be, tell them what to wear, tell them what to say, tell them how to act and think, and compel others compulsively until the world is all like them.
Your modest pledge will be used to censor TV and radio, ban questionable books, and contribute to many other Godly services.
You’re still fucking peasants as far as I can see, a working class hero is something to be.
These are the days of the endless summer, these are the days, the time is now. There is no past, there’s only future, there’s only here, there’s only now.
The paperboy doesn’t bring me the news, he only brings one side to choose. So how can we see both sides clearly?