One little baby awake…
Just the two of us here in the dark.
My lil’ hot potato, only three weeks old,
Groovin to Al green at four am in Mama’s arms.
I hope you’ll be back asleep before five,
Cause I’ve been asleep for less than six hours
And I’ve got to get up at seven.
Just when lights go out
you open your eyes
and decide it’s time
for a midnight stroll.
We saunter about the kitchen
as you stare out from the blanket bundle
with your little wise old elf face.
You wrinkle your tiny forehead
and furrow your almost invisible eyebrows,
looking about quizzically as you ponder some deep truth
until the rapid flutter of your tongue
through pursed lips reveals your babyness
phantom nursing…
You were just spacing out
and daydreaming of milk after all.
Just East Of Crazy Land 