Time touches all things with a destroying hand.
Time just goes on, and... it doesn't stop for anything.
Still on it creeps, Each little moment at another's heels, Till hours, days, years, and ages are made up Of such small parts as these, and men look back Worn and bewilder'd, wondering how it is.
'Liberty Brass' is a small machine that unfolds in a single unpunctuated wave, which is interrupted by the rotating sign, the refrain. Each part is meant to do its work in relentless progression.
Rehab is endlessly repetitive. And it's never easy, because once you've mastered some movement or action or word, no matter how small, you move on to the next. You never rest.
The road goes ever on and on
Age is always advancing and I'm fairly sure it's up to no good.
Time rolls his ceaseless course.
A peculiar fact about termite-tapeworm-fungus-moss art is that it goes always forward, eating its own boundaries, and, likely as not, leaves nothing in its path other than the signs of eager, industrious, unkempt activity.
