To: DainBramage
Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time.
And all our yesterdays were spent hanging around in bars
Bedecked as women.
77 posted on
04/22/2002 2:55:49 AM PDT by
Junior
To: Junior
A tale told by an idiot, signifying nothing.
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