The sun was like a great visiting presence that stimulated and took its due from all animal energy. When it flung wide its cloak and stepped down over the edge of the fields at evening, it left behind it a spent and exhausted world.
His palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy There's vomit on his sweater already: mom's spaghetti He's nervous, but on the surface he looks calm and ready To drop bombs, but he keeps on forgetting What he wrote down. The whole crowd goes so loud He opens his mouth but the words won't come out He's choking, how? Everybody's joking now The clock's run out, time's up, over - blaow!