ALL THE WORLD’S WOMEN & STEVE BUSCEMI

There you were, all of you, although I could only see the first fifty or so. But you were all there, rows upon rows of women going back for miles upon miles, all of you singing along to Steve Buscemi’s tapping foot as he rocked the mike your way, and the band played on, bluegrass style. You were all smiling, singing your lungs out, but boy was it cheesy. I just came up and grabbed our baby daughter from the female Dutch photographer. The melody stuck for the first hour of my waking day. It’s gone now. And so has Steve.

And the meaning is:

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