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Sunshine or dark,
Sprosser or Lark,
It really doesn’t matter when.
Evening or light,
Jet black or white,
I lose my days time and again,
And clocks don’t tell me when I’m done;
They ain’t no fun. My ruler’s not the sun.
I’m blessed I’ve always been non-circadian.
Midnight or noon,
Sunlight or moon,
It really always feels the same.
Morning aubade
Or serenade,
And both their times should be declaimed.
Nocturnal souls, they miss the light;
Diurnal men, they miss the night,
But I have both within. Non-circadian.
