A charming song in Joyce's master's voice recital was of a doll that wound down and couldn't go on singing without a little help from the accompanist, who turned an invisible key on her back. I think that's how I felt the past 2 days--wound down with fever--and needed to stay in bed while my key was turned.
Isn't it good God "slumbers not nor sleeps", never has to have HIS key turned?
