Waking up at four
Going to bed at four
I may be too roused to cuddle, but Ill never snore
Stuck in one place, such a bore
So you turn to me and shudder
How could I make you a mother?
Suitable, not for him
Well the him acts on a whim
Balance I could do
But if we teeter, know Ill fall for you
If Im crying at 4am on a drunken Sunday night
Note the perfect balance, by tomorrow its alright
Well the goth phase, the rock stage, put your brain in a haze
Replace with the sock stage and coffees, I aim to amaze
You see a childish man who's stuck in his ways
But that makes it easy for our kid to engage
If a kid is what you wish then I will arrange
My life, and its on to a separate page
Dear Alice, Oh Dear Alice
Am I that repulsive?
Dear Alice, Oh Sweet Alice
Is it bad to be impulsive?
Dear Alice, Oh Dear Alice
To have the perfect balance
Dear Alice, Oh Sweet Alice
Half full is the chalice
