Well we all had our Willie & Wade records cept this one guy who was called Spare Some ge? cause thats all he ever said and you dont have no Willie & Wade records if the best you do is Spare Some ge?
So we all took our Willie & Wade records down to the Willie & ark and played all the great and sad Willie & Wade songs on portable players for the beasts of the city, the jumpy black squirrels and burnt-looking dogs and filthy, sick pigeons.
And I thought probably one day Willie or Wade would show up in person at the Willie & ark to check things out, see who was there and what record this person laying and what record that person laying.
And probably Willie (or Wade) would just ease around cheg things out, saying "Howdy" to this one and that one, and hed see the crazy black guy in Army clothes who stands in the Willie & ark and every ten minutes, screams like a chi, and Willie (or Wade) would just say to that guy, "How ya doin good buddy?" and smile, cause strahings dont bother Willie, or Wade, o.
And I thought Id probably go up to Willie then, if it was Willie, and tell him bout my friend that died, and how I felt about it at the time, and how I feel about it now. And Willie would say, "I know."
And I would maybe ask him did he remember Galveston, and did he ever when he was a kid play in the old crete forts along the sea wall with the giant on ihat the gover didnt want any more, and hed say, "Sure I did." And Id say, "You ever work the Blue Jay in San Antone?" and hed say, "Sure I have."
And Id say, "Willie, dont them microphones scare you, the ones with the little fuzzy sweaters on them?" And hed say to me, "They scare me bad, potner, but I do on."
And then he (one or the other, Willie or Wade) would say, "Take care, good buddy," and leave the Willie & ark in his black limousihat the driver of had been waiting patiently in all this time, and I would never see him again, but tio treasure, all my life, his great tributions.