When I was young I’d force myself
To leave beds where I laid
To don my clothes and rush to work
So one day I’d get paid

The hour was always early
And the sun had not yet risen
It seemed that I was serving life
In early riser’s prison

In concert halls for rigging calls
While all the world was sleeping
You’d find me with my coffee cup
Around a stage a’creeping

And then one day I realized
My days of work had ended
In all the halls where I once crawled
New younger men attended

I was asked the other day
Why I get up and go
When dawn first cracks the inky sky;
I’ve got no line to toe

It’s not about commitment
And it’s not about the bread
I want to wake so I’ll be sure
That I am still not dead

Jeff Burkhart’s Rhyme & Reason

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