If you could sing one line from a song ...

i'm a lucky fella,
and I just gotta tell ya.
That I love her endlessly...

 

I like the way the line runs up the back of the stockings.
I've always liked those kind of high heels too. You know, I...
No no no no, don't take 'em off, don't take... Leave 'em on, leave 'em on.
Yeah, that's it, a little more to the right, a little more....

 

Didn't Bob Marley write that song?

 

"My old man's a joke,
Working for the company,
And they laugh at him,
What a piece of human waste"
- Essay, My Dad
Nobby Klegg and the Civilians

 

"You ain't a beauty but hey, you're all right."

"They scream your name at night in the street
Your graduation gown lies in rags at their feet"

 

I shot a man in Reno, just to watch him die.

End of motherfucking thread.

 

Turn around . . .
Every now and then I get a little bit terrified and then I see the fucking look in your eyes
Turn around bright eyes . . .
Every now and then I fall apart
Turn around bright eyes . . .
Yeah fucking every now and then I fall apart
And I need you now tonight
I fucking need you more than ever

When's the next wedding reception?

 

"Well I don't know why I came here tonight. I got a feeling that something ain't right."

while dousing a kidnapped pig with gasoline and sawing his ear off.

 

She had dumps like a truck, truck, truck
Thighs like what, what, what
All night long
Let me see that thong

 

"Do you remember ... your President Nixon/do you remember, the bills you have to pay/For even yesterday." -- Young Americans


"Marrying money is a fulltime job/I don't need the aggravation, I'm a lazy slob/Hang fire."

Might have fucked up that first part, classic misheard lyric.

 

Any line from Tom Waits' "The Ghosts of Saturday Night."


A cab combs the snake,
Tryin' to rake in that last night's fare,
And a solitary sailor
Who spends the facts of his life
like small change on strangers...

Paws his inside P-coat pocket
for a welcome twenty-five cents,
And the last bent butt from a package of Kents,
As he dreams of a waitress with Maxwell House eyes
And marmalade thighs with scrambled yellow hair.

Her rhinestone-studded moniker says, "Irene"
As she wipes the wisps of dishwater blonde from her eyes

And the Texaco beacon burns on,
The steel-belted attendant with a 'Ring and Valve Special'...
Cryin' "Fill'er up and check that oil"
"You know it could be a distributor and it could be a coil."

The early mornin' final edition's on the stands,
And that town cryer's cryin' there with nickels in his hands.
Pigs in a blanket sixty-nine cents,
Eggs - roll 'em over and a package of Kents,
Adam and Eve on a log, you can sink 'em damn straight,
Hash browns, hash browns, you know I can't be late.

And the early dawn cracks out a carpet of diamond
Across a cash crop car lot
filled with twilight Coupe Devilles,
Leaving the town in a-keeping
Of the one who is sweeping
Up the ghost of Saturday night...

 

My name is Sue!
How do you do?!
Now you're gonna DIE!

Yeah, that's what I told him!