3 O'clock






The purgatory of the day
the time in which is neither here nor there
and if we didn't have a sense of time
we might not pay so much attention to you
be so hard on you
but with such a middle set sun
gleaming a light of "what to do"
thick syrup tungsten light
I'm sick on you


The stomach ache of too early and too late
when 3'Oclock comes round
I want to leave this town
when 3'Oclock comes round ill faces comes to town
poor 3'Oclock you makes us feel down


3'Oclock your face needs a lift
your time needs a good kick
you gotta move on
keep on keepin on
get some appeal
no loitering here

maybe some long satin gloves on those arms of yours
something to jazz up
that daunting short, three chimed tune, you jig
the  anticipation kicks in everyday just shortly after 2
your  bittersweet
dear 3'Oclock

perhaps
its not you...











































































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