To Sleep To Sleep Poem by Bob Gibson

I get up every morning, close on half past four
I do not put the lights on, or close the bloody door!
I stand there having a wiggle, rocking back an forth
My eyes are closed, I'm not a wake, or which way is north!

I was trained to hear the splashes, and I try to hit the pot
Girls have got it easy! but us lads have lost the plot
Rocking back an forth, hand against the wall
Its not an art you can perfect, when your pecker is so small

I don't want to be awake so my eyes I keep tight shut
Why do men have to stand an pee, an not sit on their but?
I'm nearly finished now, I'm dribbling, my pj'S they feel wet
my aim is bloody useless, not to worry, not to fret

I want to go back to sleep, but my P.Js they feel damp
so i take the bloody bottoms off so I don't get a cramp
I think i have performed a miracle, with my eyes tight shut
as i lay here in a cold bed with an itchy but!

night night