OH WELL, HERE WE ALL ARE
You can't bother the bargain man, and really, nothing
gets through. You can't undo the bad endings either;
they're there for all to see. You can't bother the
botherman, and he won't listen anyway. Boys, this
is a weird globe spinning, and all we chase is chimera
and idea. For myself, I'd trade the whole mess for
a pile of girls, or maybe some lethargic heartthrob
known as Mary. Just a name anyway, don't take
offense. Look here, I myself painted this window
with premature paint. It faded, but the scene came
alive : five thousand years ago, that was me, on
the landscape chasing my prey. These nomadic
groups, we all had to eat. I clobbered and smashed,
cut and tore. The fire never went out; we had to
make sure. My God, nothing was easy then. I
only learned copulation myself by watching.
The little tribe grew. Oh well, here we all are.
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