The whole truth and nothing but the truth. Stop me if you've heard this one before. The whole truth is nothing but a good excuse. So long as you don't torture me with my past.
I was down at the New Amsterdam. Staring at this yellow-haired girl. Mr. Jones strikes up a conversation. With this black-haired Flamenco dancer. . And she dances while his father plays guitar.
My love. lives out at the end of the road. takes what you give her and goes. Says things that everyone knows. She's only willing. to kiss me again. Lights me on fire.