The world on a string

Every sound in the universes tonight. All such cacophony; guitars breaking down. I’ve been with the little men, the little man you schooled with – the little violin playing men – and I am the abhorred drunk, or drunken. At least I am alive, and I am. New house. New life. New neighborhood. Leave this place behind. Good memory. Forget the bad. I guess it’s finally time for me to give you Thama’s clock back.