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 | Hey, look at where my hand is. | |
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| You're hand is where it always is, holding that damn drink. | |
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| No, but doesn't it kinda look like I'm holding that tree behind me. Talk about wood. What if I had a, well, a member the size of that tree... | |
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| Okay, I'm not even touching what the snow represents... | |
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| Hey, who's got the dirty mind now. I was just thinking, I'd be embracing the glory of the God-given nature of tree and perfection in the palm of my hand. | |
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