This should all be rewritten in the pluperfect.
Samuel BeckettTags: tense
Play me something that makes me feel;
This soul inside me is made of steel.
Brain is breathing, but heart’s not beating
And, babe, I need you to make things real.
Walk inside me without silence,
Kill the past and change the tense.
Empty gnawing and the ache is soaring;
Take me places that make more sense.
Witness also that when we talk about literature, we do so in the present tense. When we speak of the dead, we are not so kind.
John GreenTags: past present time death literature tense
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