The Seattle Star

All my friends tell me something is gettin’ together, I got a beard that would disappear if I’m dressed in leather. Now let me tell you about my baby, she was born readin’ Sunday Comics, sittin’ in the jailhouse trying to learn some good manners.

I dreamt all yesterday how I might make a man feel, the Sunday Comics up to his face! “Show respect to me, I don’t care what you’re thinking, I’ll wipe that thought away!”

We know of an ancient radiation that haunts dismembered constellations, a faintly glimmering radio station. While Frank Sinatra sings “Sunday Comics,” the flies and spiders get along together…cobwebs fall on an old skipping record.

You drove me up and down the street; you used me up like gasoline. I still remember the Sunday Comics, that’s the reason had to stay away from Claire.