I knew, I had no qualms, nothing. I was going to sing, and I was going to sing rock ‘n’ roll.
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I knew, I had no qualms, nothing. I was going to sing, and I was going to sing rock ‘n’ roll.
“Pride is his pity, artifice his praise
A mask his virtue, and his fame a blaze;
Insult his charity, his friendship fear,
And nothing but his vanity, sincere.”
Anonymous | “On a Certain Poet”