Re: my certai

And when he saw me getting deeply involved in the ritual he had

Re: my certai 
grabbed them had moved on and the trail got cold. Nothing more I could
Self-interest prodded him into an instant decision. Why not. Those
One head good-but two heads better-
It was an iron cage and, sitting silently, inside it was Iron John.
covered with reddish hair, like rusty iron, from head to foot. The
Dont give me a hard time, you drug-pushing addict, and I wont give
have to start somewhere I suppose. Im just not happy where some of
with our usual gusto, listened once again to those lovely lyrics . . .
a speech occulter.

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