It is late.

The house sleeps around me,
But I sit at my computer
And think thoughts of genius.

(I’m always a genius
After midnight.)
When the clock strikes 12,
Einstein himself
Has nothin’ on me!

So I'm a backwards Cinderella,
And my magic carpet awaits.
Someday I’m gonna learn
How to drive that thing...

But as I was saying--

Funny, how this magicking time
Is so unpopular with Them.

They say that sleep before midnight
Is the best for you,
And makes you healthy,
And wise,
And rich--
which is a lie.

But I don't tell them They lie.
I just say,
"I can sleep when I'm dead."
Respectfully.

I don't care to let them in
On the secret of the century.

For if they knew what I know,
Sleeping would be
Like last year's fashion.
Out with the old
In with the new.

Because bedtime is for babies.

Long live the New Regime!