Okay Greasers,you've Had It.

Your Mother Is Not Crazy. Neither, Contrary To Popular Belief, Is Your Brother. He Is Merely Miscast In A Play. He Would Have Made The Perfect Knight In A Different Century, Or A Very Good Pagan Prince In A Time Of Heroes. He Was Born In The Wrong Era, On The Wrong Side Of The River, With The Ability To Do Anything And Finding Nothing He Wants To Do.

Maybe The Two Different Worlds We Lived In Weren't So Different. We Saw The Same Sunset.

I've Been Thinking About It, And That Poem, That Guy That Wrote It, He Meant You're Gold When You're A Kid, Like Green. When You're A Kid Everything's New, Dawn. It's Just When You Get Used To Everything That It's Day. Like The Way You Dig Sunsets, Pony. That's Gold. Keep That Way, It's A Good Way To Be.

...but I've Never Regretted It. You Can't Regret Experience.

Even The Most Primite Societies Have An Innate Resepect For The Insane.