Oder ich schreibe sowas:

Große Lyrik:

Don't know what I'm doing here
I'll carry on regardless
Got enough money for one more beer
I'll carry on regardless

(...)

I want my love, my joy, my laugh, my smile, my needs
Not in the star signs
Or the palm that she reads
I want my sun-drenched, wind-swept Ingrid Bergman kiss
Not in the next life
I want it in this
I want it in this

The Beautiful South: Good as gold (but stupid as mud)