(Hey, it's not cancer. It's just chocolate cake in my ear and down my bra.)
And I got all the symptoms, count 'em 1, 2, 3. Their names are Natalie, Daniel, and Eve. They are symptoms of something crazy, and her name is Christy. Nothing an aspirin and some chocolate can't cure.
They say what you give is always what you need...in which case, it's looking like I need crackers, juice, and unreasonable demands to clean your room.
I play my part, and you play your game. And I'm really tired of always having to be the Big Bad Wolf. I want a turn as the smart pig who built his house out of bricks. If I have to huff and puff one more time, I'm gonna have an asthma attack.
I just need someone I had a cassette tape for. Oh, I'm halfway there. Santa left me some Bon Jovi tickets in my stocking.
Sorry, Justin Bieber. You're no Jon Bon.