They congregate at break of day,
when night is almost done,
for a joyous benediction
to the rising of the sun.
And once again come evening,
when the western sky so bright,
surrenders all its duties
to the velvet cloak of night.
I’d like someone to explain to me,
before I turn to clay,
’cause I’ve never heard that cackle
in the middle of the day.
Why they sometimes start at 4 AM
and wake me with a fright,
to join with them, to celebrate
the middle of the night!