We're all pals togetherrrrrrrr.
The Gang knows no bad weatherrrrrrr.
We're all for us all for us,
And we're rolling do-own life's highway,
On our crowded busssssss!
Laura whispered huskily in his ear. "Don't worry about any little old thing. We're one together, man."
God, he was tired. He was so tired he could hardly sit there. He felt numb, and there was desperation under the numbness. Kane wanted to get off somewhere by himself so he could rest, sleep, and think. He wanted to think....
Bits of information drifted haphazardly into Kane's consciousness from the conversation. He had ordered another double Scotch and was almost through with it. He was passing out, but held to conscious awareness by the unceasing banter, laughter and the jukebox—like a marionette held up with wires.
If he suddenly found himself alone in silence, he knew he would collapse instantly.