And I Was Having Too Much Fun

It's That Moon Again, Slung So Fat And Low In The Tropical Night, Calling Out Across A Curdled Sky And Into The Quivering Ears Of That Dear Old Voice In The Shadows, The Dark Passenger, Nestled Snug In The Backseat Of The Dodge K-car Of Dexter's Hypothetical Soul. That Rascal Moon, That Loudmouthed Leering Lucifer, Calling Down Across The Empty Sky To The Dark Hearts Of The Night Monsters Below, Calling Them Away To Their Joyful Playgrounds.

Stop The Nurse Like The Monkey.

First Things First Has Always Been My Motto, Mostly Because It Makes Absolutely No Sense - After All, If First Things Were Second Or Third, They Wouldn't Be First Things, Would They? Still, Cliches Exist To Comfort The Feeble Minded, Not To Provide Any Actual Meaning.

Dying Makes Everyone Weaker, Subject To Painful Insight, And Not Always Insight Into Any Kind Of Special Truth - It's Just The Approaching End That Makes People Want To Believe They Are Seeing Something In The Line Of A Great Revelation.

But What Could I Do? Be Stupid For A While? I Wasn't Sure I Knew How, Even After So Many Years Of Careful Observation.