What is it that makes me
just a little bit queasy? There's
a breeze that makes my breathing
not so easy I've had my lungs
checked out with X rays I've
smelled the hospital hallways
Someday I'll have a disappearing
hairline Someday I'll wear
pajamas in the daytime
Times when the day is
like a play by Sartre When
it seems a book burning's
in perfect order I gave
the doctor my description I
tried to stick to my prescriptions
Afternoons will be measured out
Measured out, measured with
coffeespoons and T.S. Eliot
Maybe if I could do a play-by-playback
I could change the test results
that I will get back I've watched
the summer evenings pass by
I've heard the rattle in my bronchi
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when the day is like a play
by Sartre '±¸Åä(La Nause)'¶ó´Â ÀÛÇ°À¸·Î À¯¸íÇÑ ÇÁ¶û½ºÀÇ Ã¶Çа¡ »ç¸£Æ®¸£´Â ±ØÀÛ°¡À̱⵵ Çߴµ¥ ±×ÀÇ ¿¬±Ø ÀÛÇ°Àº ¸¹ÀÌ Áö·çÇß´Ù°í ÇÕ´Ï´Ù.
Measured out, measured with
coffeespoons and T.S. Eliot
T.S. EliotÀÇ <The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock>À̶ó´Â ½Ã¿¡ 'I have measured out my life with coffee spoons' ¶ó´Â ±¸ÀýÀÌ ÀÖ½À´Ï´Ù. Ưº°ÇÑ ÀÏ ¾øÀÌ Ä¿Çdzª ¸¶½Ã¸ç Áö³»´Â »îÀÇ ±ÇÅ°¨À» Ç¥ÇöÇÑ ºÎºÐÀε¥, À§ °¡»ç´Â ºÐ¸í ÀÌ ½Ã¿¡¼ Â÷¿ëÇÑ °ÍÀ¸·Î º¸ÀÔ´Ï´Ù.
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