In his baggy sweaters, he looked Like a dress-up child or hexed shrunk in swimcloth He scratched a ticket with the Vending slug he found on the ground A grand! But none did he share to Sam Who drove his *** And bought it nonetheless!
He had taken to sticking himself Draining hot spoons, a fiend for G-I-between beans
In the back of a heavy whip, fading and yolk faced I'm so glad to Have you around, guys Nod (always hit hard for such a noodle) and nausea
They carried him newbridewise inside Cracked his head on the door frame as They passed his invisible Father and mightuzz wellbe mumdrunk Left him on his pillow where he Spun into Z world, final dream
Sam collapsed when we Got the call and I could see in his Raw face and ****** dog-vision hair the loss He would sacrifice much more Than that ticket to Reverse A friend