Far below, on the beach, were his friends Half-naked bums Partying in the sun There were atheists There were *** maniacs The fat old Bumbo was a crazy bartender
I thought I was the only One. The Chosen One I never knew they came in packs All of them? Even Bumbo is a prophet? You mean to say you make me climb this eyrie-high To tell I'm just one of them? I'd rather not be a prophet