Ziggy's toast is singing.
Ziggy (the strip, never the individual) often deals with topic of oppression, incompetence, and self-loathing, but I think I like it the most when it's just plain weird. And when your morning foodstuffs start crooning Johnny Cash your life is plenty weird. Ziggy seems a little put off by this development, but not necessarily afraid or confused. He's probably worried that his toast will continue its soulful tune through the twin trials of butter and jam, all the way to his linear mouth.
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