I stay up too late as a matter of habit Its when the clucking in the head is signaling a thinks gravid And going to drop an egg out better not sleep through Better hope to have a microphone handy, too Heres a handy clue its a two part story Go to bed in the end, get up in the morning But dont ask the third act, it happened as I slept Meant to maintain consciousness, wasnt adept What was it I kept meaning to do, make happen From quarter to two until Gm come tapping Like Frontalot, you ought to come on out of your room. Says through the crack in the door that he can smell my perfume That I havent been to bed in a week. Come, come Thats a slight exaggeration and Im almost done With a brand new record, if I could just locate The edit window that I first intended to create Spin around What does it do to your inner ear? Your account Dont pay the dues? You are in arrears What Ive found Is we get just another day or two Falling down? Dizziness does that to you Eventually give up on any thought that I got Settle into the rotation of the lovesmenot And the beds right there but it dont quite beckon Try to sit upright for another couple seconds And another knuckle reckons itself uncracked Cant remember what Im looking at, rewinding it back Trying to find an exact definition for the phobia Of getting into bed, I think instead Im about to go to the All night Brooklyn coffee supply Making terrible decisions and I dont know why And my oh me oh, what is it to be oh? Digital clock come creeping on the threeoo But lying in the dark is worse And I may be in arrears with the sleep but averse To trying to accomplish is epic how I fail In opposition to the pillow, pillow prevails
arrears, bed, handy, threeoo, gravid