'So if I die rich and famous in the hall of fame,
or in a prison nameless with a ball and chain.
Sky high above the clouds and the fallin' rain.
Makin' love to my woman hear her call my name,
or bangin' my head against a brick wall in pain.
If the last days of my life I was called insane,
it's all love cus it's all the same,
and if I'd get a new life nothing at all I'd change...'
jak ktoś mądry w Last Song nawinął...