Sunshine or dark, Sprosser or Lark, It really doesn’t matter when. Evening or light, Jet black or white, I lose my days time and again, And clocks don’t tell me when I’m done; They ain’t no fun. My ruler’s not the sun. I’m blessed I’ve always been non-circadian.
Midnight or noon, Sunlight or moon, It really always feels the same. Morning aubade Or serenade, And both their times should be declaimed. Nocturnal souls, they miss the light; Diurnal men, they miss the night, But I have both within. Non-circadian.
