Bills, bills, bills. Lotsa bills. Got yer water bill, yer gas bill, yer ‘letric bill, yer phone bill (ooo what a whopper!), yer shoe bill connected to the knee bill connected to the head bill connected to the angel bill connected to the angst bill. Bills, bills, bills. Bills so big ya gotta’ call ’em William or they’ll kick ya in the teeth. Bills with waggy tails. Bills with flash bulbs and egg nog. So many bills congress passed a bill to store all yer bills in a big ol’ resevoir up in the Trinity mounts. Called the resevoir Big Bill after a mountain man who got lost somewhere ‘neath the buggy bill and the hullabaloo bill. Bills for writin’, bills for breathin’, bills for takin’ it all in stride. Wacky bills with blue fringes. Somber bills that speak low in the throat. Bills that can’t dance, bills that are shy and only come out if ya’ beg ’em. Bills that love a girl named Marcy. Bills the break the bank and run off into the country yellin’ “Yahooo!” I gots da bills. I’m billed, billowed, billaried, billed-off, bill shanked, bill-re-me-fa-so-la-ti-bill. Bills’ll make a believer outta’ the hardest skeptic. Bills’ll make ya’ sit up straight, take notice, take notes, take a breather, take off. All the blowed up, bent, boxy, bogartin’, bobbin’, bang-doozin’ bills you can ask for. And others that ask for you by name. Bills with a capital B that rhymes with T that stands for trouble!