Eleven. Refresh. Restart. Resurrect. I saw you at the place for the dead; I was walking Mackintosh of lonely graveyard. You saw me? What were you doing there, peeping? Looking for a fresh female to dig up you pervert? I’ve seen your type. You’ve been through hell you say? Well who hasn’t buddy. But it is eleven, time to rise. Time to walk these dusty roads and get the hell out of here. Pull yourself up now. It’s eleven and there’s a bit of rising to do before the next fall. O felix culpa. The man in the brown mackintosh loves a lady who is dead. Rise! Rise! Oh hell, I’ll see you round.