![]() And then that last moment comes, and they watch their lover walk out, and they find themselves surrounded by the wrong kinds of everybodys in the wrong kinds of places that they mamas warned them about, drinkin’ the whiskey that they swore they’d never drink. They work their whole lives tryin’ to be pretty and they tell their mamas that they’re happy being pretty, and they watch the moments roll by like the smoke from their too-filtered cigarettes until they know the last one must be comin’ soon, but still they smile and still they smoke. ![]() You all just chuckle and assume that everybody’s got to the same place you’ve got yourselves, but they haven’t, and a lot of ’em are tryin’ real hard not to get there. And this here bar is full of your kind of everybodys: spitting on their mama’s graves without so much as a glance to the heavens to see if they could find some guiding light. For example, I know your last moment has passed because you got a drink from the bartender there without so much as opening that square little mouth of yours. TOM: Ha! Ain’t that just how it is for everybody?īETTY: I guess that depends on which kind of everybody you’re talking about. ![]() ![]() Waiting for a big ol’ man to swoop down and pick you up at the last moment.īETTY: That last moment has already past. You, young lady, look like you ought to be tied up to some train tracks somewhere. I know somebody told me about you someplace. ![]()
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