I am greeted by morning singing.
Of birds too soon. My head is spinning.
Through the window the cold wind is visiting.
I shiver, wishing that the night wasn't so limiting.
For I wish to return to my peaceful dreams.
A different world, where nothing is what is seems.
But alas duty has called upon me!
But first I should try to wake up properly...

Tick tock tick tock
There goes the clock 

Busy with ticking away
Every second of the day
Giving a sound to time
Indicating day or nighttime

Tick tock tick tock
There goes the clock

Its hands are clapping 
While time is unwrapping 
Clapping on the beat
Every second never offbeat

Tick tock tick tock
There goes the clock

It seems to go so fast
When you're having a blast
Other times not at all
Time then just seems to crawl

Tick tock tick tock
There goes the clock

Again I give a big sigh
Trying hard to deny
That another day went by
Another day to say goodbye

Tick tock tick tock
There goes the clock

Wishes are like butterflies
Beautiful, astonishing, but frail
Similar to magic spells
As if from a fairy tale.

Wishes are like tears
Uncontrollable and emotional
Because they come from the heart
They are illogical and irrational.

Wishes are like fine china
When they are too much to carry
They'll become broken shards
Reactionary and fragmentary.

Wishes are like the atmosphere
Surrounding me and you
Appearing in the form of fallen stars
How I wish they'd come true.

In the rain,
I look so insane,
Waiting for the train,
There's nothing to gain,
Nothing valuable to obtain,
Only more and more pain,
But I just can't refrain,
I'm tied to a chain,
Chest pain.

Oh my cute kitty cat,
Lying all cozy on my bed.
How I wish I were you,
I want to be pampered too!
'Meow,' you would say,
In response I nod okay.
You got me at your beck and call,
Following every wish I shall.
So I bring you some fresh milk,
While you lie there waiting on the silk...

What is evil, what is good?
Is it for us to decide, just because we could?
So many laws have been written down,
Book after book, the world is a paper town.
But life is never pure black and white,
Sometimes it's hard to see what is right.
Sadly some efforts are all in vain,
So criminals are left unpunished and victims in pain.
Justice has been served, how nice would that be,
But that's only wishful thinking, don't you agree?

Is there perfection in imperfection?
Or is that just a personal projection?
I look at my own reflection,
With mental disconnection.
The only thing I see is rejection,
Everything needs a correction.
Especially my midsection,
There is no perfection.
Only objection,
To the imperfection.