...He's the special god son in anybody's land/ hey, hey, hey, hey, hey....
Someone finally moved into the house at the top of my street, the one that stood vacant for a year and a half after the silent little crone moved away/died, then it burned, then stood vacant and untouched for another six months, then was gutted and rehabbed, then was put up for sale, then stood vacant for another nine months.
The yard no longer holds the red-and-white realtor's sign. It sports instead a large cage containing a Rottweiler and a Pit Bull. There is a Harley chained to the back porch, and a filthy Ford pickup out front.
I think I don't have to wonder about the gender of the inhabitant.
Or the size of his penis.
(Macho Man; The Village People)
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