3835. LORDY, LORDY

LORDY, LORDY

So let's rattle and go for the reach:

just as the bat flies what we call blindly

so too shall we ourselves define what it

is we do, kindly. I won't shove, You know me

and I know you, and consistency is the

hobgoblin of little minds. Here we go,

here we go, Ralph Waldo Emerson or

Henry David Thoreau. And either of them,

if it was for sure was beaten out by

Whitman: 'Yes! I contradict myself!'.

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Let me take the edge off your drink.

The edge off your cold? What's any of

that mean? I'm not sure, only sure I

don't know. And while we're on the subject,

let's get off the subject. Mary had a little

lamb, whose fleece was white as snow.

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Oh Lordy, Lordy, and here it is I am again.