The world is laughing and drinking to you, The sun is dripping the snow into holes, and I am not smiling but life moves on. Birds are all scraping the days and are singing, and I am not reading the ways of today. But days carry on. The people are laughing and drinking to you, you magnificent bastard, you fellow of words and worlds of birds singing poo-too-weet in spite of the dawn. Catch the dark rays and enter the haze of your yesterdays and days and days. Kiss your daughters and say goodnight, one last time before you fall... R.I.P. Kurt Vonnegut
