My alarm rangAnd I woke up mad.I tried to unwind the clock;Alas! It stopped.I got up from my bedAnd, into two, it broke.I stood up and sighed;I called it bad luck’s stroke.
I walked to the nearest store;“Out of bread,” the old man told.To the next store, I walked a mile;Shut was the door; “closed” said the sign.
I walked fartherAnd my heels broke off.I called out for a cab,“No,” he said with a scoff.
I came back homeOnly to realizeThat I lost the keys,The spare remained inside.
And I cried all dayTill the fall of the dusk;I heaved a sighAnd called it just my luck.
