Early in the morning,
Lying in the dark,
An idea comes a calling,
A small one, just a spark.

Still it excites my, imagination.
I treat it like a, precious gift.
I'll try and write the verses,
The chorus, and a riff.

Where does the music come from?
When I'm alone here in the dark.
I'm lying here with blackness,
Who lights that little spark?