Not Ready to Rise

My head is stuffy
my bones seem to ache.
The first words of morning
I'm not ready to take.
The sun, it too,
has hidden away.
We aren't ready to rise,
no not today.
The rooster is crowing,
only he is awake.
The hens and I all
just need a break.
It's Sunday they call,
we're not ready to scratch,
back to the roost bar for us,
we've nothing to hatch.
There's laundry to be done
but it's wet outside.
The clothes line must stay empty,
I have an excuse to hide.
My bed is still warm,
my family's asleep,
I can go there myself,
if down the hall I shall creep.
Quiet, so quiet,
the steps I must take,
I'm just not ready to rise,
for goodness sake.