St. John Goes to Nicaragua

As I listened to the rooster crow his little heart out in the very dark, early morning hours, this song came to me:

(To the tune of Psalm 139 by Allen Pote, which we sang with the youth choir a few weeks ago)

Rooster, your crowing - it bothers me.
It awakens me from sleep!

When I rise (when I rise), or lie down (or lie down),
you are there making a peep.

Before the sun is in the sky,
you cock-a-doodle-doo!
I must admit
I want to harm you.

Where can I flee from your crowing?
Where can I go to get some sleep?

If I put in earplugs,
Or take a pill,
You are there (you are there)...