Boys, I thought I'd drop a line. Thanksgiving here in Crawford's fine. I'm safe in bed each night by nine. P. S. You'd love it. Yesterday I felt some pain. Fell off my bike; real rough terrain. Blamed it on the French champagne. P. S. You'd love it. Finish up there just as soon as you're able. My rating's in free-fall. I'm getting calls for an exit timetable. If I were you, I'd go AWOL. Not much more for me to say. Sometimes stuff happens; oh, by the way, Rummy's teaching me croquet. P. S. You'd love it.
Music by Gordon Jenkins |