Second Why (audio only)
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Nothing in that drawer. Nothing in that drawer. Nothing in that drawer. Nothing in that drawer. Nothing in that drawer. Nothing in that drawer. Nothing in that drawer. Nothing in that drawer. Nothing in that drawer. Nothing in that drawer. Nothing in that drawer. Nothing in that drawer. Nothing in that drawer. Nothing in that drawer.
It's funny when the mind thinks about the psyche, as if a grasshopper could ponder a helicopter. It's a bad idea to fall asleep while flying a helicopter: when you wake up, the helicopter is gone and you are too, left behind in a dream, and there is no way to catch up, for catching up doesn't figure in the scheme of things.
The little elf is dressed in a floppy cap and he has a big rosy nose and flaring white eyebrows with short legs and a jaunty step, though sometimes he glides across an invisible pond with a bonfire glow on his cheeks: it is northern Europe in the nineteenth century and people are strolling around Copenhagen in the late afternoon, mostly townspeople on their way somewhere, perhaps to an early collation of smoked fish, rye bread, and cheese, washed down with a dark beer: ha ha, I have eaten this excell