The Damn Bell Sans Merci

I. What can ail the coming dawn Although there is no loitering; The button on the clock has broke- There's way too many birds singing. II. Oh what can ail the sleeper, Eyes shadowed: night is done, The squirrels are brisk and bushy-tailed; Most glad, to see the sun. III. I see new wrinkles on your brow, Your sweat has broken, fever'd too With reddened cheeks, the morning light Does there, eschew. IV. I met a salesman in the woods Selling things, with tone so mild; I wish I had not bought his goods: They are my trial. V. I placed the clock upon the bed, An it were better than a phone, To wake me, from the Stygian deeps; My chronic lateness, to atone. VI. I set the clock where I could see And eagerly await its song, I knew come morn, the dawn would break- By it, ere long.. VII. I lost myself in Viking tales, And dined on wild radish, and rue, Certain that sweet vibes would wake, At mornings cue. VIII. I took me to my cushy sheets, And sunk myself in sleep, full-bore And then I took my nightly draught- A fool, times four! IX. And then I slept (quite all alone) With the clock, close by my side, And dreamed of things you could not know In dreams, abide. X. And dreamed the clock went off as I Ran off down the longest hall; The damn bell sans merci- My ears, it did maul! XI. Then I woke to the loudest ring That my ear-drums, did debride; The button on the darn thing broke- And fell inside. XII. And that is why I sleep out here, Breaking rules, by loitering; The button on the clock has broke- There's far too many birds singing.