Friday, November 23, 2007

About Time His Musical Genes Kicked In

Slurring his speech as if in a drunken stupor, but with a Blood Alcohol Content of zero, his only excuse was the 10 hours of retail-induced exhaustion when he sang this little ditty for me.

"I've got pumpkin bread, pumpkin bread in my hand.

If you want some, you gotta join the band.

Pumpkin bread, pumpkin bread, it's in your head.

You better hurry up, or you won't be fed."

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