All day long, balls kept flying at my head.
Sometimes I feel, sometimes I feel,
Like I been tied to the whipping post
Tied to the whipping post,
Tied to the whipping post,
Good lord, I feel like I’m dyin’.*
Well, it's probably not as bad as all that. For instance, the situation doesn't call on me to climb up that recently dynamited slide zone yonder and dislodge them boulders with this here crowbar, nor to handle the dead. At least it hasn't yet.
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*Allman Brothers Band — “Whipping Post”
Marcel Duchamp — Nine Malic Moulds from “The Large Glass”
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