It was somewhere around midnight
When the dumb phone began to bleep.
The loud ring startled me awake,
Out of a deep and pleasant sleep.
“Good buddy would you be so kind
To let me talk to my friend Lee?”
I said, “I am not your buddy
And no one else lives here but me.”
Once more asleep, what do you know,
The telephone began to ring!
It rang and rang and wouldn’t stop
Until I grabbed the stupid thing.
“Good buddy, don’t you lie to me,
I know that my friend Lee is there.
This is the number he gave me,
I know I wrote it down with care.”
“There’s no one in this house but me!”
I yelled into the stupid phone.
“Now go somewhere and phone yourself
But leave my telephone alone!”
Three more times he called my number,
This stupid friend of one called Lee’s.
I shouted things I shouldn’t say.
I even used profanity.
My anger was a growing thing,
All hope of sleep had by now fled.
If I could catch this friend of Lee’s
I would joyfully make him dead.
“No greater anger could exist
Than this raw anger I had grown.”
At least that’s what I would have sworn
Until once more I heard the phone.
If there’s a record just for mad,
Then you can go and have a look.
My name will sure be listed there,
In the new Guinness record book.
I grabbed the phone on its first ring.
I shouted, “WILL YOU GO AWAY?”
A cheerful voice said, â€Hi, It’s Lee.
Have I had any calls today?”
A telephone call in the middle of the night, for those that it is not the norm, is always nerve racking. If it happens to be a wrong number it is even worse. A second time is unforgivable and a third time is reason for justifiable homicide.
The poor guy in, A Call For Lee, is a little past irate when Lee calls. I didn’t attempt to write what Lee was told as this is a book for the whole family.
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