Saturday

if a body catch a body coming through the rye.


...boy, when you're dead, they really fix you up. i hope to hell when i do die somebody has sense enough to just dump me in the river or something. anything except sticking me in a goddam cemetery. people coming and putting a bunch of flowers on your stomach on sunday, and all that crap.

who wants flowers when you're dead?
nobody.

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welly welly well away