There are days when the music is too loud
And the grass looks too green
There are mornings when the **** crows too proud
And mama's cheerful wakeup call sounds too mean

There are days when my dreams seem too blury
When past nightmares seem too scary
There are mornings when my goals are too high
And my arms are too tired to reach for anything but the nigh

There are days when my head is too heavy to lift
When even my eyelids are too heavy to lift
There are mornings when my eyelashes are forced to sweep
My cheeks and be drenched in the tears I weep

There are days when I wake up and wish I had stayed asleep
Remembering how I didn't sleep last night counting sheep
The drowsy feeling of last night lapses into the insomnia of today
And the dreams of yesteryear bounce off my head like a faded light ray

Only on those days when the sweet music doesn't speak to my soul
And the green of the grass might as well be grey,
Do I shamefully and pitifully wallow
In the sweet, sticky, dry tears on my pillow

Only on those mornings when the **** crows continuously, monotony its tone
And mama calls for me to wake up, a few hours after my first wink, in a
voice that's a slow, dull, monotone
Do I shamefully and pitifully wallow
In the sweet, sticky, dry tears on my pillow

Miss Fit