Chapter 237: Living On The Midnight

First thing I remember finding
Was a lonesome pestle grinding
And the youngest dream of growing up to joke...

But that's another song and another story, but it was a suribachi much the same as that that caused some worrisome years for my mama, and started a lifelong love affair with comedy.

Every time I hear the sound of some seeds
Clatt'ring down those mortar's grooves
I get that faraway look in my eye
And I'd like to throw my costume down
And take off to become a clown
And not even take the time to say goodbye

I've got to think about my lackeys
About my school and my old lady
And how much she'd miss me if I was gone
And I love them more than anything
But I got this feeling near by seeds
And sometimes I wish I was grinding paste and gone

That seeds keeps a-grinding in the bowl
Making my old memories whole
Making tahini boil in my veins
Reviving my old love affair with Pootan...

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OP: “Ningen nante” by Yoshida Takuro
ED: “Just” by Radiohead