The seasons beat down upon you, stress and work and worry. Sweat and worry, your hands they shake, shake like spindly spinnerets. In your right hand you hold a pen, but it will not contact the paper; the convulsing is too strong. The words won't come out right. You're not alright, you're not a-ok.
You shake and shake and shake
shiver, teeth a-chatter
Close your eyes, try to push it all away, it still won't stop
Shake, shake, shake, shake
Tears they roll down from your eyes
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