Time, by now, surely needs a rest,

To deservedly put up its feet.

After working long, hard and fast,

Without relative pomposity or frown,

It’s due some sort of treat.

 

A sugary, savouring pause,

While the rest of us stop

And give much praise and applause

For Time’s endless countdown.

                        Its tick-tock clip-clop

 

That has completed our days

So far. It won’t be, for long, much missed.

We’ll all just live in a perpetual haze,

While Time goes out, on the town,

                        And gets pissed.