Watt, here
I'm downstairs from your window, your uh
Pub' phone booth, if you're up
(I get tense)

Thurston—Watt—Thurston
I think it's ten thirty
We're calling from Providence, Rhode Island
Did you find your shit?
You gotta watch the mota, Thurston
Your fucking memory just goes out the window
We couldn't find it in the van at all
We were wondering if you looked in that trash can
When we threw out that trash, man, was the bag in your hand?
Did you dump it? (Thanks)
Call later, bye