I can feel you in my head,
stomping, pecking, flapping 'round.
A party must be going on:
Everything is much too loud.
Oh, I wish your eggs would stay intact,
And not ooze down my nose.
Or have the shells fall down my throat,
that scratch it raw, corrode.
It seems you have your heater on,
and cranked it up real high.
I'm sorry you find it cold tonight,
Though it's my brain so I don't know why.
But, alas, it's twelve o'clock
and diff'cult to count sheep.
So if you'd please quiet down up there,
I would really like to sleep.