They call me the sloth
Way down in the ghetto
Italian spaghetti

Singing falsetto
Sleeping all day
Rip van winklin'

Spend my nights in bars
Glasses tinklin'



I'm so bad
He's so nasty

Ain't got no friends
Real outcasty
Stay out of my way

Or you'll end up a cripple
I'll take this piece of paper
And slice your nipple



They call me the sloth

Way down in the ghetto
Italian spaghetti
Singing falsetto

Sleeping all day
Rip van winklin'
Spend my nights in bars

Glasses tinklin'







Colonel forbin stared at the fourteen bars that stood at the end
of the cell. he ran his hand across the cold, damp dungeon wall
and thought again about the door. he had traveled through the

door out of necessity. once he knew it existed, he simply
couldn't leave it alone. just like wilson. just like tela.
just like errand wolfe. and he sat in the dungeon, and he

realized that he was back again through the door. and through
the tiny window in the corner of his cell, he heard the distant
strains.


Errand
Errand

Errand
Errand



And from atop the mountain icculus looked down on all that went
on below him. and he smiled.