Women treat us [men] like humanity treats gods – they worship us and keep bothering us to do something.

کلمات در گودال زمان پژمرده اند و بی صدا در اعماق دریاچه ی آتشفشانی تلنبار می شوند

To be left with only the trace of a memory is to gaze at an armchair that's still molded to the form of a love who has left never to return: It is to grieve, dear reader, it is to weep.

If you had told me when I was starting out that I would be coming down to Nashville, kind of weaving in and out of the country scene, I never would&#39;ve thought that in a million years.

Written By Kid Rock

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