I have officially adopted the title of former crack baby. yes, it's a lie, but who gives a rats ass? If I die of vanity, promise me, promise me, they bury me someplace I don't want to be, you'll dig me up and transport me, unceremoniously, away from the swollen city-breeze, garbage-bag trees, whispers of disease and the acts of enormity and lower me slowly, sadly and properly Get Ry Coonder to sing my eulogy. Taken from "At the hundreth meridian" by the trajically hip.