So here's an answer to a request.
This is "On a Seven Day Diary."
"Oh, well, I got up, and went to work,
and worked, and came back home, and ate, and talked,
and went to sleep.
Then I got up, and went to work, and worked, and came back home
from work, and ate, and slept.
Then I got up, and went to work, and worked, and came back home,
and ate, and watched a slow, and slept.
Then I got up, and went to work, and worked, and came back home,
and ate steak, and went to sleep.
Then I got up, and went to work, and worked, and came back home,
and ate, and fucked, and went to sleep.
Then it was Saturday, Saturday, Saturday.
That love must be the reason for the week.
We went shopping.
I saw clouds.
The children explained everything.
I could talk about the main thing.
What did I drink on Saturday night
that lost the first, best half of Sunday.
The last half wasn't worth this word, word.
Then I got up, and went to work, and worked,
and came back home from work, and ate, and went to sleep.
Refreshed, but tired by the weekend."