BILL BAILEY
Not to be confused with Beetle Bailey, or Ned Beatty
or Halle Berry or Hurley Burley; just so we have that straight.
Bill Bailey is due home - she's cried the whole night through.
It's a funny, lame, old world where I get my coffee and where I
live my life and where I hang my hat and my coat. I went to Iselin,
just the other day - a town hereabouts, often referred to now as
'Little India' - to buy some clothing; asking 'where's a good store?'
The strange guy answered with a mouthful of Paan - which is
betel leaf (more overlap, Beetle Bailey) - 'go to the store called
'Ma Hat, Ma Coat', owned by my uncle Bhat. I think he was kidding;
it sounded like 'my hat, my coat' to me. But, anyway, that's the
life I lead. Now they're putting storage bins where I need them
the least, and I'm watching as all these people are
dropping off clothes.
the least, and I'm watching as all these people are
dropping off clothes.
Bill Bailey, won't you please come home?
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