To: All madmen, drummers, bummers, Indians in the summer, teenage diplomats, all-hot half-shots, fleshpot mascots, young Scotts with a slingshot, bloodshot forget-me-nots, brimstone baritone anti-cyclone rolling stone preachers from the East, new-mown chaperones, fresh-sown moonstones, silicone sisters, manager’s misters, Go-Cart Mozarts, Early-Pearlies, hazards from Harvard, backyard bombadiers, dudes with a calling card, shooting stars from Zanzibar, avatars, boys who laugh too soon, kidnapped handicaps and mousetraps.
Remember, Mama always told me not to look into the sights of the sun. Don’t give me any of that nonsense about how that’s where the fun is! Do you wish you were blind? (although that’s another song entirely . . .)