Now, you stick that back in that gray matter of yours and you make that stick. 'Cause any other thought's gonna get you cold-slabbed, toe-tagged ... and mailed home to your mama in a plastic bag.
Troddu ūví nú inn í heilann í ūér og geymdu ūađ ūar ūví öll önnur hugsun kemur ūér á líkbörur og til múttu í plastpoka.