The Bell tolls for the backup man 20-26-1-13-519 a.m. V3 ES

The 4:30 AM Bell Tolls for the Back Massage Man
Verse 1
The smartphone on the nightstand starts its digital chime,
At four-thirty sharp, it’s a cold and bitter time.
The world is still frozen, the moon’s still in flight,
But the screen glows with malice in the dead of the night.
I reach out to silence that high-pitched decree,
But before I can blink, he’s already on me.
My husband bolts upright, a man with a goal,
To soothe every knot in my weary, dark soul.
Chorus
No woman is an island, or so the poets say,
But I’m an archipelago of tension before day.
Ask not for whom the iPhone rings in the pre-dawn sun,
The bell tolls for the back massage man, and his work has just begun.
Yes, the bell tolls for the back massage man,
Doing the heavy lifting with a two-hand master plan.
Verse 2
It’s a Pavlovian masterpiece, a feat of the mind,
Twenty-five years of training to be this refined.
He heard the alarm and he didn’t ask why,
He just moved to the rhythm of a low-frequency sigh.
Now he’s like a lab dog at the sound of the bell,
Doing manual labor while I’m under his spell.
He’s kneading out my shoulders with a focus so deep,
While I navigate the border of guilt and of sleep.
Verse 3
I thought about explaining that the timer was for me,
To start the coffee brewing, just some fresh coffee.
I opened up my mouth to say, “Honey, you can rest,”
But then his thumb hit that one spot—the one I like best.
Right there on the rhomboid, the one on the right,
And my moral compass vanished right out of my sight.
If he wants to be a hero at this ungodly hour,
Who am I to deny him his back-rubbing power?
Chorus
No woman is an island, or so the poets say,
But I’m an archipelago of tension before day.
Ask not for whom the iPhone rings in the pre-dawn sun,
The bell tolls for the back massage man, and his work has just begun.
Yes, the bell tolls for the back massage man,
Doing the heavy lifting with a two-hand master plan.
Verse 4
I feel a bit guilty, a twinge in my heart,
To watch him work so hard before the day even starts.
But then I remember the decades it took,
To get him this conditioned, without even a look.
Twenty-five years of subtle suggestions and cues,
Until he’s the one paying my relaxation dues.
He’s checking for alignment like a structural engineer,
While I’m checking how much longer I can keep him right here.
Verse 5
Every morning at the buzzer, he fulfills the prophecy,
A slave to the vibration and the chime of "Galaxy."
Is it gaslighting? Perhaps. Is it cruel? Maybe so.
But my lower back is supple and I’ve got that morning glow.
He thinks he’s answering a summons from the heavens up above,
But it’s just a snooze-button cycle fueled by accidental love.
I’ll tell him the truth tomorrow... or maybe in a year,
But for now, I’ll just enjoy having my massage man right here.
Verse 6
So if you hear a ringing in the house across the way,
At an hour where the bats are still out at their play,
Don't worry for the neighbor, she's having a grand time,
While the "Bell Tolls" echo loudly in a pre-dawn chime.
He’s the back massage man, and he’s happy in his role,
Jesus saves my mortal soul, while he saves my weary spirit.
I’ve got him right where I want him, after all of this time,
And I’ll reward him with coffee... but for now, it's sublime.
Chorus
No woman is an island, or so the poets say,
But I’m an archipelago of tension before day.
Ask not for whom the iPhone rings in the pre-dawn sun,
The bell tolls for the back massage man, and his work has just begun.
Yes, the bell tolls for the back massage man,
Doing the heavy lifting with a two-hand master plan.

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The 4:30 AM Bell Tolls for the Back Massage Man Verse 1 The smartphone on the nightstand starts its digital chime, At four-thirty sharp, it’s a cold and bitter time. The world is still frozen, the moon’s still in flight, But the screen glows with malice in the dead of the night. I reach out to silence that high-pitched decree, But before I can blink, he’s already on me. My husband bolts upright, a man with a goal, To soothe every knot in my weary, dark soul. Chorus No woman is an island, or so the poets say, But I’m an archipelago of tension before day. Ask not for whom the iPhone rings in the pre-dawn sun, The bell tolls for the back massage man, and his work has just begun. Yes, the bell tolls for the back massage man, Doing the heavy lifting with a two-hand master plan. Verse 2 It’s a Pavlovian masterpiece, a feat of the mind, Twenty-five years of training to be this refined. He heard the alarm and he didn’t ask why, He just moved to the rhythm of a low-frequency sigh. Now he’s like a lab dog at the sound of the bell, Doing manual labor while I’m under his spell. He’s kneading out my shoulders with a focus so deep, While I navigate the border of guilt and of sleep. Verse 3 I thought about explaining that the timer was for me, To start the coffee brewing, just some fresh coffee. I opened up my mouth to say, “Honey, you can rest,” But then his thumb hit that one spot—the one I like best. Right there on the rhomboid, the one on the right, And my moral compass vanished right out of my sight. If he wants to be a hero at this ungodly hour, Who am I to deny him his back-rubbing power? Chorus No woman is an island, or so the poets say, But I’m an archipelago of tension before day. Ask not for whom the iPhone rings in the pre-dawn sun, The bell tolls for the back massage man, and his work has just begun. Yes, the bell tolls for the back massage man, Doing the heavy lifting with a two-hand master plan. Verse 4 I feel a bit guilty, a twinge in my heart, To watch him work so hard before the day even starts. But then I remember the decades it took, To get him this conditioned, without even a look. Twenty-five years of subtle suggestions and cues, Until he’s the one paying my relaxation dues. He’s checking for alignment like a structural engineer, While I’m checking how much longer I can keep him right here. Verse 5 Every morning at the buzzer, he fulfills the prophecy, A slave to the vibration and the chime of "Galaxy." Is it gaslighting? Perhaps. Is it cruel? Maybe so. But my lower back is supple and I’ve got that morning glow. He thinks he’s answering a summons from the heavens up above, But it’s just a snooze-button cycle fueled by accidental love. I’ll tell him the truth tomorrow... or maybe in a year, But for now, I’ll just enjoy having my massage man right here. Verse 6 So if you hear a ringing in the house across the way, At an hour where the bats are still out at their play, Don't worry for the neighbor, she's having a grand time, While the "Bell Tolls" echo loudly in a pre-dawn chime. He’s the back massage man, and he’s happy in his role, Jesus saves my mortal soul, while he saves my weary spirit. I’ve got him right where I want him, after all of this time, And I’ll reward him with coffee... but for now, it's sublime. Chorus No woman is an island, or so the poets say, But I’m an archipelago of tension before day. Ask not for whom the iPhone rings in the pre-dawn sun, The bell tolls for the back massage man, and his work has just begun. Yes, the bell tolls for the back massage man, Doing the heavy lifting with a two-hand master plan.

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