Monday Night Terrors

Two-thirty AM, screeching scratching Cupboards overhead, quacking hatching Nutters all around me, sweating, shaking Beds all drenched in perspiration Floorboard movements, creaking, squeaking Little grey freaks keeping me from sleeping Is it those little grey freaks with their elastic whips Little grey freaks with their knife carved nips And then I woke up And then I woke up to a banshee wailing Next door thumping, portrait nailing Nutters all around me, sci-fi breathing Wallowing away like a board game beating Dimmer switch twiddling, conscience raising No-specs creature, infuriating Is it the no-specs creature with his presence overwhelming No-specs creature with his presence like the kremlin And then I woke up to the hinges flying No face, staircase, sounds and crying Figured don't appoint him in dating Chuckle noise follows, humiliating Try to focus, lens adjusting The phoney jet fuel has just bust in The phony jet with his mital designation The phony jet with his royal preparation Whoa-oh Oh-whoa-oh Oh-whoa-oh Oh-whoa-oh Oh-whoa-oh (Oh-whoa-oh) (Oh-whoa-oh) (Oh-whoa-oh) And then I woke up And then I woke- Terrors, terrors, Monday night Leave me shades of ghostly white Eyes so sore, and so's my head Should probably just drag myself back to bed And then I woke up