Cannonball Statman
days in paper
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SHE
LAYS OUT
THE PAGES
ON THE TABLE SHE
LAYS OUT THE
PAGES OF THE SCRIPT
THE PAGES ARE
ALL OUTA/ORDA/ORDA/OUTA
THE PAGES THE
SCRIPT
YOU TURNED ME OVER!
PUSHED MY FACE INTO THE BRANCHES!
YOU TRIED TO TAKE ME OVER!
NOW YOU EXPECT ME
TO FOLLOW YOU?!
HELL, NO!
GARÃONS GUILLOTINE
DESSINENT PAYS PAS!
Now I feel like
the Brooklyn Bridge.
I feel like a sewer rat;
I feel like a poison man.
I feel like a rat,
on the train tracks.
He remembers
how her eyes used to dance
around on the floor; those eyes don't dance
around much anymore,
on the train tracks.