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I brush my teeth and say my prayer And tell my mom good night. She says, "My Dear, go right to sleep," As she turns out the light. Right then it always happens. I really don't know why. But when I'm ready to retire My mouth gets sorta dry. It seems I'm on a desert Without a drop to drink. And while in this condition I just can't sleep a wink. I search for an oasis As I must fill my cup. Things are getting desperate My camel's hump's dried up. Crawling slowly through the sand. Dry sores now sting my tongue. This barren land is hard upon The thirsty, sleepless young. Life's full of scary choices. I've just made one, I think. It's time to risk my happy home— "HEY, MOM, I NEED A DRINK!"
—Grandpa Tucker |
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//4/11/99
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