Intermission 

Good, kind Tim died on Tuesday, 

He should've ended right there, 

But the faeries didn't want him yet, 

His soul just floated on the air. 

He landed in the lost land of Oolmuk,

Where angels and demons coexist, 

It was a pleasant sensation to be in a place, 

Where fear, loneliness and hatred aren’t missed. 

And here among such entities, 

He dwelt for many years, 

When at last he felt caged, and he raged, 

And he cursed the Divine through his tears. 

My Soul is so tired, my strength is so spent, 

My thoughts are confused, I wish you'd relent, 

And let me sleep the sleep of those who have felt, 

That they have been honest and productive 

with the hand they were dealt. 

So he asked the question, 

Entreated to his God, 

To truly rest must I worship you 

or just truly love others? 

So kneeling he prayed for rest and freedom, 

And at last real death befell him, 

And his new parents celebrated, 

The rebirth of good, kind Tim.