Amos, you are a saint. Or should that be a capitalized Saint? That last post I made, I can't even figure out, but you always forgive me for my transgressions. I bow to you and wash your feet, followed by kissing and then licking each toe individually, and then I gently rub and carress the inside of every toe skin while singing a soft melody like,,, Mockingbird.

Mock...ing...bird... hey... yeah... Mockingbird have you heard, he's going to buy you a mocking bird.
And if that mocking bird don't sing well, he's going to make Amos a king.
And if Amos becomes a king, we don't need to worry 'bout anything
And then the mother will be whole again,
and the Moab, (not in bold letters, excuse the fuck out of me Bee)will be not King free.