You always said I was out of control. Teach me hatred, then let me go… You didn’t care, no truth and no dare — Sunday Comics, blow everywhere. Now you’re so high, kiss all the guys, making me jealous, I wonder why…
On the jazzier side of things, Andrew Hamlin listens to the seasonal delight of Vince Guaraldi.
Are you bringing a present for me? Something pleasantly pleasant for me? Then it’s Sunday Comics I’m waiting for, would you mind slipping it under the door? Zat you, Santa Claus?
It’s Christmas at ground zero, the Comics have run to ground. We can dodge debris while we trim the tree underneath the mushroom cloud!
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