Perched in a tree
With a stretch, I yawn
The world is calm
Eight minutes till dawn
No wonders have I seen
From a view such as this
The trees provide shade
Nothing is amiss
Down near the lake
Lay a wolf and a fawn
The world is at peace
Eight minutes till dawn

Set down my pen
As I pick up a sword
Their trumpets align
As they strike a chord
I mount a horse
The silence has gone
A war continues
Ten minutes past dawn
My mind is blank
As I charge ahead
Checks are dry
No tears are shed

Stretched out long
No wheeze, no yawn
Lying here so still
Eight minutes till dawn
The scythe was sharp
Now blackness I walk
Many gather round
With pride they talk
The funeral was set
Many tears were drawn
Here I will lie
Eight minutes till dawn