(no subject)
"Someone show me a way to get outta here....'Cuz I constantly pray I'll get outta here...."
Seymour is lying sprawled in a booth, singing as he watches the rafter. His clothes smell faintly of BO, and there's a nasty brown stain on that clean white shirt, and a beer bottle beside him. There were others, which the rats presumably have taken away.
The singing continues, at varying volume. Sometimes really loud ("TELL LADY LUCK!"), sometimes in a mutter ("that I'm stuck here").
He's going to continue.
Seymour is lying sprawled in a booth, singing as he watches the rafter. His clothes smell faintly of BO, and there's a nasty brown stain on that clean white shirt, and a beer bottle beside him. There were others, which the rats presumably have taken away.
The singing continues, at varying volume. Sometimes really loud ("TELL LADY LUCK!"), sometimes in a mutter ("that I'm stuck here").
He's going to continue.