Oh How I Hate To Get Up In The Morning

Oh, how I hate to get up in the morning.

Oh, how I'd love to remain in bed.

For the hardest blow of all

Is to hear the bugler's call--

You've gotta get up,

you've gotta get up

You've gotta get up this morning.

Someday I'm going to murder the bugler.

Someday they're going to find him dead.

I'll amputate his reveille

And stomp upon it heavily,

And spend the rest of my life in bed.