Originally Posted by PonyExpress

Our Patriotic armies are staring down at a great rich valley open for plunder. All we have to do is cross a narrow river... call it the Rubicon. Logic and calculation have brought us to this point, and vast conquests already lie behind us. A soft voice whispers to us: Turn aside, take the safe road! Don't risk all you've gained and worked for on a throw of the dice!

But there is another voice... Call it the Wind. It teases us from beyond the rich valley, across the great divide, summoning us to greatness the likes of which no army has ever achieved before...Only a stroke of genius can carry us further.

Trade for Moss.

Originally Posted by shmessy

A Rolling Stone gathers no Moss.

Originally Posted by Mike the Brit

Papa was a rolling stone ...

Originally Posted by shmessy

.....and when he died, all he left us was alone.

Originally Posted by shmessy

A Rolling Stone gathers no Moss.

Originally Posted by Flying Fungi

And we keep getting richer
But we can't get our picture on the cover of the Rolling Stone