Ziemlich schwer, danach Zeilen wie diese noch unvoreingenommen zu hören:
„A girl asked me once in Ireland, ‚What is your dream?‘ I said, ‚I’m livin‘ it.‘ I asked her, ‚What’s yours? Since you asked me.‘ She said, ‚I don’t know.‘ But that’s a good answer, and we drifted off to sleep on a magical night in Galway and I remember her lips tasting so sweet. ‚“
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Hold on Magnolia to that great highway moon