Well, the years start comin' and they don't stop comin'
Fed to the rules and I hit the ground runnin'
Didn't make sense not to live for fun
Your brain gets smart but your head gets dumb
So much to do, so much to see
So what's wrong with taking the backstreets?
You'll never know if you don't go (W-w-wacko)
You'll never shine if you don't glow

Domestic fury and fierce civil strife
Shall cumber all the parts of Italy.
Blood and destruction shall be so in use,
And dreadful objects so familiar,
That mothers shall but smile when they behold
Their infants quarter’d with the hands of war;
All pity choked with custom of fell deeds:
And Caesar’s spirit, raging for revenge,
With Ate by his side come hot from hell,
Shall in these confines with a monarch’s voice
Cry ‘Havoc,’ and let slip the dogs of war;
That this foul deed shall smell above the earth
With carrion men, groaning for burial.

“If you come back to me, I’ll never leave you”, I whispered into the furry ear. “I’ll make you all the pies you could ever eat.”

من تظن نفسك انا

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| . . . . . . . I love you

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