You are the eye of the storm and the sturm of the drang and you are dead. Deadeye Dick killed with a stick, a stick in the eye.

You are the eye of the storm and the sturm of the drang and you are dead. Deadeye Dick killed with a stick, a stick in the eye.
When I was twelve years old I rode my bike twenty miles to sit at my brother’s grave. I talked to him through the earth. I asked him if he could hear me.