pops -> (11/16/2001 9:21:00 PM)
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...my sincere sympathies...
all away all away all away all draggin 'em all away down into down with a scream or a sigh a smile and a nod, quiet or in full cry here comes Death draggin 'em all away
sneak around corners up out of grates eagles and the ants, spiders and the cormorants, draggin 'em all away
Damn you Death, I piss on your shoes, Father of Blues get offa my land or I'll run you through!
And who'll be there to get you when I do?
Never could say goodbye like it had any kind of final rectitude, any essential rightness. Whatever's right, yeah? Whatever's true - later, not farewell. As in, see you around.
Death is senseless unless we just pop over into some other place, along with the eagles and ants, the spiders and cormorants, the destitute and shameless, the brightest and best - born to be banished banished to be born.
One stood in the moonlight One stood out in the crowd One stood under star blue sky his daydream turned up loud.
How did this come to pass? Don't gimme no don't gimme no . . . this tractor don't run on horseshit, Deboree, just natural gas.
Some folk come to stir it up and when it's stirred they split - simple as that.
Robert Hunter 11.10.01 "Lament for Kesey" (Ken Kesey passed away last weekend...you know...he wrote: One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest)
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