Notes 2 I’ve layed in my bed for almost two weeks now. Sometimes feeling better, sometimes even more sick. My head hurts constantly. I’ve been to the doctors two times already and every time they are convinced that I need to rest. I’m having all these crazy dreams. I’m starting to hear strange noises. I’ve lost my appetite. I hope I get well soon. I don’t want rest anymore.

Notes I believe that Darwin was wrong; Man did not evolve from monkeys. Evolution took a miss step and a mutation was born. A mutation, a virus, a monster. The monkey seems to be much more evolved than man. Then again some people say God created man. If so, he’s one mean son of bitch.

Staten Island Serenade, a song by Joe Coffee. IF I HURT YA WHEN I HIT YA, IT WAS AN ACCIDENT. SOMETIMES I DON’T KNOW MY OWN STRENGTH. IT AINT THAT BIG OF A BRUISE, AND I DON’T THINK IT’LL SCAR. SO, DON’T GO MAKING EXCUSES, ‘CAUSE I AIN’T. ‘ NOW DON’T TELL ‘EM YOU FELL DOWN AT THE BAR.. ‘ AND DON’T TELL ‘EM THAT YOU WRECKED THE CAR.. ‘ DON’T YOU THINK WE’VE GONE TOO FAR? IT AIN’T THAT I DON’T LOVE YA, I JUST CAN’T STAND YA.. IT’S NOT THAT I DON’T UNDERSTAND, I JUST DON’T CARE. YOU SEE WELL LIFE HERE STARTS TO DRAG, WELL I CAN ALWAYS GET ME A BAG. IT AIN’T WHAT I NEED, BUT HELL, IT’S ALWAYS THERE. WE USED TO HAVE DREAMS, NOTHIN’ OUTTA THE ORDINARY.. BUT, WHEN OUR SHIP CAME IN, IT WAS JUST THE STINKIN’ FERRY. I TRIED STEALING ‘EM BACK WHEN I THOUGHT NO ONE WAS LOOKIN’.. BUT BY THEN, YOU HAD TAKEN THE KID AND MOVED TO BROOKLYN. AND NO BRIDGE, NOR TUNNEL IS SHOWING ME ANY MERCY, WHEN THE LIGHT AT THE END ONLY WINDS UP BEING ‘JERSEY. I CAME IN AS A CHILD, AND NOW I’M SOMEONE’S FATHER. BUT, INSTEAD OF BEING A DAD, I COULDN’T BOTHER. NOW I WONT TELL ‘EM THAT YOU WALKED OUT, IF YOU WONT TELL ‘EM THAT I SMACKED YA ABOUT. NOT THAT THEY HAD ANY DOUBT… Song by Joe Coffee. Lyrics by Paul Bearer.

Pretty In Pinko, a song by Joe Coffee. I FELL IN LOVE WITH A MARXIST T.A. AT 18 YEARS YOUNG. SHE’D LOAN ME HER MANIFESTO, AND I PRETEND NOT TO BE DUMB. I GUESS SHE LIKED MY BLUE COLLAR CHARM, OR MY MAYBE MY ENDURANCE IN BED. I NEVER REALLY STOPPED TO REASON; BECAUSE IT WAS BETTER BED WITH RED. SHE WAS A FEW YEARS OLDER, AND SHE HAD A COUPLE UP ON ME. YA SEE NOW I WAS JUST A DRUNKEN BOOTBOY, WITH A CURBSIDE PHD. HEY, THERE MRS. ROBINSON! DID YOU EVER MAKE THE GRADE? YOU SEE I DROPPED OUT BEFORE THE BELL RANG, NOW LOOK AT THE MESS I’VE MADE. I USED TO LISTEN TO HER RAMBLE JUST TO TRY TO GET HER BACK INTO BED. SEE I REALLY WASN’T ONE TO ARGUE; WHEN I NEVER UNDERSTAND A SINGLE WORD SHE’D SAID! SHE’D USE TO TALK ABOUT THE STRUGGLE BETWEEN THE WORKING AND THE RULING CLASS. BUT I WAS FAR TOO DUMB TO TELL THE DIFFERENCE, BETWEEN THE REVOLUTION, AND A PIECE OF ASS. NOW DON’T YOU GET ME WRONG, NOW, YOU SHE HAD HERSELF A HEART OF GOLD. AND SHE’D STAND THERE RIGHT THERE BESIDE ME WHEN I’D FOOLISHLY ACT COLD. HEY, THERE MRS. ROBINSON! DID YOU EVER MAKE THE GRADE? YOU SEE I DROPPED OUT BEFORE THE BELL RANG, NOW LOOK AT THE MESS I’VE MADE. NOW IF’N ONLY YOU’D DATE ME WHEN I AM AN OLDER, WISER MAN…. YOU’D PROBABLY JUST GROW TO HATE ME… I’D ONLY DO THE BEST…THE BEST THAT I CAN. PRETTY IN PINKO, ISN’T SHE AND THEN IT ALL GOES STINKO, BECUASE OF ME A song by Joe Coffee. Lyrics by Paul Bearer.