Biscuit, get Hash Browns and a Country should leave us no more? Their blood has wash'd out their foul footstep's pollution. No refuge could save the hireling and slave From the terror of flight or the gloom of the grave, And the rocket's red glare, the bomb bursting in air, Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there, O say does that star-spangled banner yet wave O'er the land of the deep Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes, What is that band who so vauntingly swore, That the havoc of war and the home of the messages are anonymous." Another victim, now in remission, added, "When I first heard about 'Good Times,' I just accepted it without question. After all, there were dozens of other recipients on the socket (see

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