When the word becomes the fall guy, there I am in the middle of drinking and when? Hip to old rhythms, like a charm or an old guy waiting at a bus stop, or a pioneering hairstyle, or a flan something. Like me for my looks or like me for my strange ways of saying Spanish, but just like me. You’ll have a thing or two to say to me when you meet my feet of happiness. When I meet my happiness, when I meet my happiness, I’ll be spinning around saucers, maybe not even here, Galaxy 1. Shine the shoes of some other world guy, he butts up against the road. It’s deboned, deveined, delightful to see you again, Mademoiselle of walking, of watching, of the colonnade, of the cannonade, of the youth pictorials done for the benefit of all the churches, we sang again. Didja hear us? We did.