Hear he am, sum 'thinks-he's-gettin'-old' fooel br slumpt ovur he chayr waxt nawstaljick br Weepin' 'bout sum dandee wurds, br sum mytee fyne idears he pennd br wid ink n yeller papr, twer long tyme aygo. br br Don't mattuh now ta no wun wurkin' dis plannit br but ownlee wun-dis broke-down man br Cain't seem to hep hisself much no mo' br owtta durt, lowayjuss, kik-ass kwandree: br Deep mystree-how yoos thrive on dis erth. br br G'won an' weep, ya sons-a-bitch! br N slump, ya heap of human slag! br Ya thinks ya gets it any diffrunt frum us all? br No wuns got mo' answers dan questions, br Evree hell-bent soul feel da saym damn thang! br br So kwit-chur belly-achin' br N dropp down to yur withers br offur up yur suffring to da lord uppabove br N lay yur boydens down-All yoos wurries! br Dandy wurds ryze lyke smoke rings up ta hebben.