I don't want more people in this house. I want less. I want my life back, dammit. I want my youth. I want my hair. I want... this room. It's really nice... Are you thinking of moving out, son?
She's got you shaking like a frenchman in a thunderstorm
You even got the floor sticky just like at the theater
I'll tell you what I do then, We'll stand you in front of a mirror, I'll begin strangling you, when you reach the shade of blue that is satisfactory to you, you yell "Moo" and I'll stop