O extra hour in our day,
Why did you have to go away?
We really miss you—yes, it’s true.
It’s not the same now without you.
The evening might be brighter now
But we’re too dazed to notice how.
We stumble ’round the house and yawn,
Just where has that dear hour gone?
With you here, we had time to read and play
And eat and sleep and even pray.
But now you’ve vanished and you took
The hour in which we’d write a book,
Or learn to juggle, then crochet.
Oh, if that hour could just stay,
We’d have the time for dough to rise,
Or baking a few dozen pies,
Or cooking up a fragrant roast.
But where we feel your absence most
Is when we put our kids to bed.
Yes, that’s the hour we truly dread.
For while before they’d fall asleep,
Without that hour, we want to weep.
They dance on covers, laugh, and sing.
They chatter on ’bout everything.
They toss their pillows, start a game
That doesn’t even have a name.
That time change might seem oh-so-slight,
But not for kids in bed at night.
Yes, one day they may sleep again,
And we will muddle through ’til then.
Someday at last we’ll get the knack.
Then you’ll come skipping blithely back.
And, do you know what happens then?
Confusion will begin again.