Sunday, February 15, 2004
Dylan got it right. A blog for those avoiding the saints.
Yonder stands your orphan with his gun,
Crying like a fire in the sun.
Look out the saints are comin' through
And it's all over now, Baby Blue.--Bob Dylan
In ceremonies of the horsemen,
Even the pawn must hold a grudge.--Bob Dylan
Wanted: Young, skinny, wirey fellows not over 18. Must
be expert riders willing to risk death daily. Orphans
preferred. Wages $25 per week
— Pony Express advertisement, 1860