The tent pole is up, The canvas is spread, The hell with breakfast, Come back to bed.
Take the tent pole down, Put the canvas away, The monkey had a hemorrhage, No circus today.
Alright, listen up, you knucklehead. So, basically, there's this poem about tryna get it on in the morning, but then it takes a turn when the monkey running the show gets a boo-boo. And, like, no more sexy time! You probably wanted sexy time, you look like you watch a lot of stuff on your phone at night. So, based!