 A man walks down the street, he says, why am I soft in the middle now? Why am I soft in the middle? The rest of my life is so hard. I need a photo opportunity. I want a shot of redemption. Don't want to end up a cartoon in a cartoon graveyard. Bone digger, bone digger, dogs in the moonlight. Far away, my well-lit door. Mr. Beer Valley, Beer Valley, get these mutts away from me, you know. I don't find this stuff amusing anymore.