This is the alcoholic’s diet of unborn children
Yes, that’s right
Their parents aren’t perfect but wanted
Turning into walls
You didn’t say that sentence properly
Be quiet, you’re giving me a riot
There . . . ghosts!
They live everywhere, even in between the minutes
before watching television
I meant the alcoholic’s diet of unborn children
Not me, not my problem
I don’t have them
Oh just go kill yourself
You drinking again?
I don’t respect you