Mornings

Mornings which aren't mornings
Which are more like afternoons
I'm not sure I like them
Because time passes far too soon

Mornings which are too late
They'll be pounding down my door
They plague my days
For ageing weighs
Even when you're young and raw

I'm young I know
Time says it's so
Still head-to-toe
That changes though

And yet I'm old
I'm old I know
My little brother
Tells me so

Mornings which come too soon
Into the quiet of my room
They pull my hair
But I don't care
In my soothing midnight gloom

I'm young I know
Time says it's so
Still head-to-toe
That changes though

And yet I'm old
I'm old I know
My little brother
Tells me so