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