Never was there an alarm
In our time or in the past
That aroused you more gently
From a long night of fast
That old coffee grinder
Singing it's first tune of the day
Roll out - roll out
Let us be up and away
The aroma of coffee
Boiling in the pot
Flap-jacks and sausage
All piping hot
All this like sweet music
Runs through my head
It's time to get up
But I'd rather stay in bed
The Old Fisherman
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