“And I would never feel pain
And never be without pleasure, ever, again
And if the rain stops, and everything’s dry
She would cry, just so I could drink the tears from her eyes
She’d teach my how to fly, even cushion my fall
If my engines ever stall, and I plummet from the sky
But she would keep me high, and if I ever die
She would commission my image on her bosom, to him
Or maybe she’d retire as well
A match made in Heaven set the fires in Hell”