Rock Around the Clock

My house vibrates with rockin' sound;
reverberating all around.
Electric surges do abound
from underground, from underground.

The hydro bill is at its peak,
as sad walls flex and old floors creak.
Please turn it down, I hear me shriek.
I feel antique, I feel antique.

My three dear teens pick at guitars
and slide like they are superstars.
I think of fleeing to my car.
I need a bar! I need a bar!

Instead, I close my bedroom door,
two fingers deep, I swiftly pour
of single malt acquired before,
At liquor store. At liquor store.

The liquor worms into my soul.
I climb out of decrepit hole,
my body now in cruise control.
Let's rock 'n' roll. Let's rock 'n' roll.

My life will soon invert to mute,
my children gone in dreams' pursuit,
and all our squabbles I'll dilute.
My pain acute, my pain acute.

The quietude of days will mock.
I'll live in hope to hear their knock,
and wish that they were here to rock.
Around the clock. Around the clock.