It's Thursday, turn around and take one step down. And here we are, By Jove, two days to bring the week home.
Feeling a bit undigested, all rock and no river, all wrapping and no surprise.
Feeling like a ghost in my own house. And all I want is to sit at table. I see the table. I smell the food, but I cannot take hold of it. I just pass right through.
Where's the glad of it?