 We got through that together, I guess. Let's see. How about when I wrote? This one's called Words Like Water. One more Thursday, $20 bill. Another phone call makes my heart stand still. No clever line, a lawyer talk. And a gilded line for me to walk. Another midnight coffee cup and a shaking hand. To help me stand up, words that taste like water burn like gasoline and cut just like razor blade. Words that taste like water burn like gasoline and cut just like razor blade. You can see him in the corner standing there with a red silk tie and cold black hair. Says he has a game to play and offers me a hand to shake. And as he starts to deal me, the grins dry as bone and dark. Dark as sin. Words that taste like water burn like gasoline and cut just like razor blade. Words that taste like water burn like gasoline and cut just like razor blade. One more pinwheel slide shows a trope crumpled, posted notes and scribbled hopes in the musing of a desperate man. The reaching of his strangling hands and when you ask him what it means, will your throat snap shut? And you can't scream no. Words that taste like water burn like gasoline and cut just like razor blade. Words that taste like water burn like gasoline and cut just like razor, razor blade. This one's called Horse Feathers. Thank you very much. Thank you, Ed.