The long times come, when the night is slow and deep.
The world is growing smaller, hard and confusing in this light.
Crawling through the life, I try to be normal.
Other people seem strong and happy every day.
They don't mind me clawing at their boot straps.
I am hardly a bother with my minor attempts at life.

Long days come, and long nights follow.

Always the clock keeps a weary eye on me.
Never blinking or forgetting the time is going by.
Tick tock, blink block,
Sleep if you can, but not before am.

Long away before the sleep comes.
Rest and forget the long, long days.

Friday or Monday or Thursday or Sunday.
Rest is fantom and life is ghost.

Light and energy and life surround me.
I hear them beating on the doors of my shutters.
Faintly and constantly they bang their pattern.

Beat bang timmer shang shine so softly....

The mufflers are thick and the sounds are not great.

The dust of the world raises in my eyes.

My ears grow tired and my eyes grow dry.

Slowly it goes by...