Once you get it started it all keeps
rolling in - like money, I guess,
to one of those big-headed magnate
guys. Buddy, the bourbon, the bourbon.
I don't even know if we make magnates
any more; hell, we don't make anything
at all, 'cept maybe Kleenex.
I never know why people say that though -
like, 'what'd you ever make, big-head?'.
as if they'd made things themselves. It's a
general conceit by people who work, have or
had jobs, toil. Even the worker at GM, does he
really 'make' a car? He hangs a tailgate or
positions a seat or a mirror - everyone's got
their appointed task all on down the line.
Ah, I don't know and whatever about it cares?
From Macon, Georgia to the Somerset County
line, the world's a great big jell-fest, with
everything coated in slime.