I woke up a little while ago thinking it was Saturday, imagine my chagrin when I realized my mistake, and what's with this sign on my back that reads kick me, wouldn't a tattoo on my forehead serve the purpose just as well, and don't you think I'm a lot like Tom Joad with a dash of Milo Minderbender thrown in for flavor, and if Echo and the Bunnymen played in a town near you would you cross the street to give them a listen, and you can't rollerskate in a buffalo herd, but you can be happy if you've a mind to, and this one time when I was in Japan there was this hooker named Big Red, but we won't go into that right now, and when you listen to your favorite CD's do you pretend that it's you singing, and you're rich, and you're famous, but you don't let it effect you, and you are still the angry young man, or woman, that you were when you were still playing for a few bucks that you got when the hat was passed around, and damn if the best things in life aren't free after all, except for a nominal shipping and handling charge.
Beat me mama, eight to the bar.