In the foggy mind of dawn,
where forgiveness comes as easy as a sunrise
and numbers take on a new meaning,
There are multiples of minutes each time I hit snooze.
Somehow, I am not at my most decisive best.
They got it all wrong about the start of day
Awakening the senses,
It was just meant to be an endless,
meaningless series of negotiations,
And I chastise myself at dusk,
promises and promises to awaken
not my sympathies at daybreak.