Is to entertain the idea of nothing with music and tea. The last hour of work is eternity. The clock runs backward, falls on its face, and your phone is silent, there's no one to call, a bee is buzzing out in the street, your stomach is full and there's nothing to eat, there's a radio playing way down the hall, and Santa is coming and taking it all, and finding it large and leaving it small, and life has no meaning, and time cannot crawl, but the shadows are creeping all over the wall. Time is a little king in a boat rowing himself around in a moat with one oar long, and one oar short, he rows my whole life gone.
Sweeney