I'm stuck in this world
which is turning on itself,
I'm like a plastic elf upon a shelf

I wake up to this day
wandering what it won't feel like
not to wake up anymore, never take another hike

I hear Hariprasad Chaurasia soothing all hell
with his cobra flute,
no more nothing to dispute

I can't console myself,
I'm not very good at that;
maybe I can console the cat?