It’s waking up at 6:30 in the morning,
With your whole world sleeping next to you,
Her hair rustling in the wind of the electric fan,
The Sun peeping through the blinders,
Trying to pry your eyes open,
That, there, is bliss.
Soon, the Sun passes you over,
Adding you to the naughty list,
Of lazy people.
But your lover still sleeps
And you daren’t wake her,
For you love that solemn expression on her face,
And all you want is for that fleeting moment to remain,
Before the bustle of the morning begins.