When the sound of inspiration
Rattles windows in your head
Throws open all your unlocked doors
Drags you yawning out of bed
Down the avenues to wakefulness
Every footstep that you tread
Finds you wondering what time it is
Or what you might do now instead
You have a yearning to be comforted
Somehow your plot has lost its thread
As the kettle boiling rhythm calls
Your reason why you’re up has fled
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