______________________________________________________________ 
/ Picking up the pieces of my sweet shattered dream,           \
| I wonder how the old folks are tonight,                      |
| Her name was Ann, and I'll be damned if I recall her face,   |
| She left me not knowing what to do.                          |
|                                                              |
| Carefree Highway, let me slip away on you,                   |
| Carefree Highway, you seen better days,                      |
| The morning after blues, from my head down to my shoes,      |
| Carefree Highway, let me slip away, slip away, on you...     |
|                                                              |
| Turning back the pages to the times I love best,             |
| I wonder if she'll ever do the same,                         |
| Now the thing that I call livin' is just bein' satisfied,    |
| With knowing I got noone left to blame.                      |
| Carefree Highway, I got to see you, my old flame...          |
|                                                              |
| Searching through the fragments of my dream shattered sleep, |
| I wonder if the years have closed her mind,                  |
| I guess it must be wanderlust or tryin' to get free,         |
| From the good old faithful feelin' we once knew.             |
\                 -- Gordon Lightfoot, "Carefree Highway"      /
 -------------------------------------------------------------- 
        \   ^__^
         \  (oo)\_______
            (__)\       )\/\
                ||----w |
                ||     ||


According to the Fact Sphere: "The liklihood of you dying within the next five minutes is 87.61%."


In the spirit of William Shakespeare: Thou art a dissembling, fen-sucked hugger-mugger.