There is a temperate zone in the mind, between luxurious indolence and exacting work; and it is to this region, just between laziness and labor, that summer reading belongs.
Henry Ward Beecher
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I Think I Lost My Headache
You know why
They called and just let it ring
No reply
The door is open I swear
Ain't no use in pickin' up
You know why
[Chorus]
It's all my head I know
So they tell me so
Until my head explodes
Into my head it goes
Tastes so good
Oh, but I knew it would
Tastes so good
Burn like a match house
Medicate just to make you soft
Love is blind
Catchin' the rest me
What the hell were they thinking of
You know why
[Chorus]