Afterwards, you go up with your oldies to the beer garden and you get a lemon squash and sit in the shade and wait for the Fremantle Doctor.
I said I wanted what all guys want: to smack the beauty back into you with a light bulb revolver, to call down fire from the holy spirit and watch you incinerate in a cheap party gown, to rip you in two and make you notice how close we are to death when sleeping, to awaken that four-letter beast roaring like a fistfight in your throat that unsleeps the chaos inside you.
I'm cutting the goom, replied the student. You've got the wrong tooth, roared the man.
I'm cutting the goom,
You've got the wrong tooth,
Someday I'm going to clean up my act and start researching more carefully.
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