Moon-Awake

A silent little lad, that Moon,
Always walking about in the evening,
Usually whispering with the silent stars,
Who smile and nod
Like sleeping dreamers.

But sometimes, sometimes,
Silent Moon comes out too early,
In the late afternoon,
Around 4-5 PM,
And all the day-clouds give him the funny look,
That you're-not-supposed-to-be-here-but-we'll-act-as-if-nothing's-happening
Look.

That Moon, good fellow,
But doesn't sleep easily.
Unlike the clouds and stars,
Who sit about doing nothing,
Or the sun, who shines and sings in
A low, baritone voice.

So sometimes, when he comes about too early,
You hear little moon sing in a lonely, hushed song,

"Cause I've woken up too early,
And I can't get back to sleep,
This busy time is far too bright,
And I can't get back too sleep."

All the humans talking,
And the sun is much to hot,
The sky is harsh, the stars all hide,
And the moon can't fall alseep.

"Cause I've woken up too early,
And I can't get back to sleep,
This busy time is far too bright,
And I can't get back too sleep."

Sometimes, sometimes, you can hear the Moon, talking to God,
Asking about why 9/11 happened,
Or why the hurricane was brewing,
Or the man over there is crying,
And he talk of the sadness of the world,
And its joys and sorrows,
And sings with them with restless sleep,

"Cause I've woken up too early,
And I can't get back to sleep,
This busy time is far too bright,
And I can't get back too sleep."