The sly smoke lingering upon the room
The door open, enclosing the broom
Calmly I sat, on my wooden chair
Reading the newspaper, under the sun's glare
Yet the phone soundly rang
A catchy tune it's speakers sang
In my mind, who could it be?
In the end of the line, a stranger greets me.
And such reveals the mists of mystery
He demands me to stay awake
This uncalled feeling of stressful misery
Is far worst than I could take