Well,
it's four twenty-something and my day has begun,
I feel like going back to sleep
feels like I'm already done
and it still looks like midnight.

Under the weather
and
I use the tickle in my throat to give me a laugh.

it's four thirty-new now
time does that, moves ahead
even if you feel half dead,
that being said I move ahead to the stumbling block,

it's a rerun
that tickle which is no fun,
Tuesday you son of a gun
you nearly had me fooled.