(no subject)
Now I ain't exactly a construction worker, and building barns something like sixy-plus years ago (might be more, might be less, decades aint nothing in the end, they all blur together) is nothin' like building a hut, but I think I've done alright. Over a week of hard work and I have a home, sturdy as I could make her and big enough for one. And I mean one, I ain't taking in any strays.
I'd heard I could ask for a room in the compound, but I'm a private man, not really much for sharing, least of all with the living. And you can tell me I'm one of them now, and I'll argue it till I'm blue in the face. You cvan give a man a pulse, but that doesn't make him alive. Cause no amount of voodoo or any God-Almighty's whim will ever give you that spark back once it's gone out. I'm a reaper, I'lll always be a damn reaper until Death says other wise.
So Daisy can clutch her crosses and Georgia can flirt and try to win back a life she never wanted until it was long gone, but you won't catch me praying to a God who doesn't have room in his 'good' book for my kind, and you won't see me chasin' after something I already had once. No, I'll just be in the kitchen, making breakfast.
I'm thinkin' hash browns. Hash browns 'n fried boar.
(He's grumpy, like always, but he might just make you breakfast if you don't piss him off! Oh, who's he kidding? He'll make you breakfast no matter what. He's a softy really.)
I'd heard I could ask for a room in the compound, but I'm a private man, not really much for sharing, least of all with the living. And you can tell me I'm one of them now, and I'll argue it till I'm blue in the face. You cvan give a man a pulse, but that doesn't make him alive. Cause no amount of voodoo or any God-Almighty's whim will ever give you that spark back once it's gone out. I'm a reaper, I'lll always be a damn reaper until Death says other wise.
So Daisy can clutch her crosses and Georgia can flirt and try to win back a life she never wanted until it was long gone, but you won't catch me praying to a God who doesn't have room in his 'good' book for my kind, and you won't see me chasin' after something I already had once. No, I'll just be in the kitchen, making breakfast.
I'm thinkin' hash browns. Hash browns 'n fried boar.
(He's grumpy, like always, but he might just make you breakfast if you don't piss him off! Oh, who's he kidding? He'll make you breakfast no matter what. He's a softy really.)