Suicide, it tells, t'aint nothing to be dealt with so briefly, suicide is ramming splinters up your behind, tis listening to Darude wif da headphones made of solid Gold, my brethren always used to say, and with dese words they disappeared in things and things all earthen goods, llike pottery and winning in tha british lottery tis compelling if not shocking to see the cold and rugged, but when you are to deal you better watch your deck, nuf' respect!!!!
