A Day in the Village Old ladies hang the fascist Laundry from the balconies. A man grabs by the neck His wayward son’s guitar. The poor cat, pregnant again, Slinks off to go into labor. A car pulls into the square, Makes a three-pointed turn, Leaves. Later, the old ladies Admit they have no idea Who on earth that was.
A Day in the Village
A Day in the Village
A Day in the Village
A Day in the Village Old ladies hang the fascist Laundry from the balconies. A man grabs by the neck His wayward son’s guitar. The poor cat, pregnant again, Slinks off to go into labor. A car pulls into the square, Makes a three-pointed turn, Leaves. Later, the old ladies Admit they have no idea Who on earth that was.