Thoughts On The Dead

Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To

Sunday Morning Coming Around




Not words, big guy.

Throw me the coffee; I throw you the whip.

That made more sense, but not a ton.

Want sleepy. Had visions of Sugar-Treys dancing through my head.


Mickey was playing me like a thumb piano.

Up and at ’em. Big day.

I don’t want to do this anymore. It’s so much work and I hate it.

You get to be on the radio in a little bit, buddy.

I’m gonna say Baba-Booey.

Please don’t.

Fine. British accent?

We’re done.


  1. Nice Johnny Cash reference, for us old folks

  2. radio?

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