"...Merrily, Merrily, Merrily, Merrily/Life is but a dream!" (Row, Row, Row Your Boat)
Wash dinner dishes after dark for sense,
To rise and wash the dishes 'gain, t'avail,
In such wee hours tis night still in betrayl,
The hellish nightmare I was jolted thence
From for this lukewarm taste of what fr'intents
I like to think is sweetest minutes' pale
Chance, hark to rain cuz traffic'd shush in frail
Notes by, to trundle off to work, ah whence?
It's like our sleep was but a nap in tour.
And I half cherish that vague sense we knew
Ere dawn, as blueish twilight warms, astir,
Not lost in slumber, freighted chances to--
What, eh? I do not know. Espressos fer
Time to just savour coffee are good too.
So there, I guess. Or mebbe recite Ps 90 is it? That part about "...we spend our days as a tale that is told--"