“Black, black, black and blue, beat me ’til I’m numb,
Tell the devil I said “hey” when you get back to where you’re from.
Mad woman, bad woman, that’s just what you are,
Yeah, you’ll smile in my face then rip the brakes out my car…”
I ask myself, why would a perfectly wonderful, awesome, talented man even entertain a woman like this?? I guess for the same reasons a perfectly wonderful, awesome, talented woman would entertain a man like this… Love?
It begs the question, are we inherently masochistic (or in Bruno’s case, suicidal) when it comes to love?
I’d love to hear your thoughts on this…