Even dead boy gets low sometimes.

I’d like to eat something. Ogni tanto anche io sono triste… more than sometimes, indeed, but it would be enough if you noticed it just sometimes. Can’t always be strong, sorry.
What am I gonna do tomorrow? Time will tickle as it always does. Do this at 6 am, do that at 9 o’ clock, do it at 3 in the afternoon. Noon: my life is in a spoon. A runaway through the spoon, and I’m castaway around the moon. When a year passes, a petal’s crumbling down. What a disaster in that spoon. Will you eat it anyway?