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Time is up, you failed the game. You kept struggling on a ridiculous vermillion monocycle, carefully losing balance as you greedily devoured each and every one of the dearest strawberries in the meadow and lost the way back to heaven. What are you going to do now, stray pagliaccio? Time is up, you failed the game. Get your act together, bizarro darling, perform. Make us roar, make us howl. Let us find faint solace in the ridiculousness of your sorrow, for you lost your way back to heaven, you lost against time, never fret about fate, never weep over plight, never your fault, never your fight. Time is up, the show must commence, yet there you are, gluttonous, munching on the dearest strawberries in the meadow.
