My body's in this room with you just catchin' hell, while my soul is drinkin' beer down the road a spell. You might think I'm listenin' to your grocery list, but I'm leanin' on the jukebox and I'm about half-pissed. I'm sittin' on a chair just behind my ear, playin' dominoes an' drinkin' ice-cold beer. When you get done talkin' I'll come back downstairs and assume the body of the person you presume who cares.
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