In all our quest of greatness, like wanton boys, whose pastime is their care, we follow after bubbles, blown in the air.

Whether we fall by ambition, blood, or lust, like diamonds we are cut with our own dust.

Parting they seemed to tread upon the air,/ Twin roses by the zephyr blown apart / Only to meet again more close.

I liked the Beastie Boys and A Tribe Called Quest and Cypress Hill.

We were kind of blown away.

We're limited by recklessness. You must reach a standard where the conduct is wanton, inconsiderate (and) you don't care what you're going to do. That's a crime. Careless driving is a citation.