Pasturized.
There was a cow in the middle of Boston. Someone called his name.
That is not important for now,
Damn why cant I remember his face.
So he’s standing there in Philly,
Cold as begeesus in the middle of July.
Or was it Boston?
So he goes…
Right…
He looks around and around
then he goes to me…
He says…
“I don’t get it.”