1:03:00
but for a breath of a fresh kill.
1:03:03
Never mind the man who contemplates...
1:03:06
doing away with license plates.
1:03:09
He stands alone anyhow...
1:03:11
baking the cookies of discontent...
1:03:15
by the heat of the laundromat vent.
1:03:18
Leaving his soul.
1:03:20
Then, like in poetry,
I go dot, dot, dot.
1:03:24
You know, kind of off-center,
then I drop down...
1:03:27
and then I go: Leaving his soul...
1:03:30
parting the waters
of the medulla oblongata...
1:03:34
of...
1:03:37
mankind.
1:03:39
Damn good song, wasn't it?
You like that song?
1:03:42
All right.
1:03:44
I don't think that's right.
1:03:46
I believe the "dot, dot, dot"
come between...
1:03:49
"medulla" and "oblongata."
1:03:55
Well, it did.
1:03:57
The dots are where I say they are.
1:03:59
Melody and tune.
That's your trade, Terence.
1:04:02
You're a tunesmith.
1:04:05
I don't understand the words.
1:04:07
Y'all don't shut up,
I'm gonna go out of my mind.
1:04:10
Besides, Karl's liable to bust his
spring. He's already off balance.
1:04:14
That wasn't the way you made
it up before. That's all I know.
1:04:17
We don't need no fancy words.
We need to practice, to rehearse.
1:04:22
I'll tell you what we need.
We need some paying gigs.
1:04:25
We don't need this messing around.
That's ridiculous.
1:04:30
Amen, Johnson.
1:04:33
We don't got no goddamn band!
1:04:37
We don't need to fucking practice!
1:04:40
We don't need a shit-ass manager
neither!
1:04:44
You motherfuckers!
You're all just a bunch of losers!
1:04:48
I'm the only sane son-of-a-bitch here!
1:04:50
Get the fuck out of my house!
1:04:52
It's not your house.
It's Linda's.
1:04:54
I'll whip the dog shit out of you.
1:04:57
I will fucking kill you
if you talk to me again!