I’m having a Bob day. There’s really no better kind. It’s utterly miserable out there but Bob’s resounding off my walls, so it’s OKAY.

Hey, hey Woody Guthrie, I wrote you a song
About a funny old world that’s a’comin’ along.
Seems sick and it’s hungry, it’s tired and it’s torn,
It looks like it’s dying and it’s hardly been born.