one new nue

I hate the yellow lights!
It's day, but it feels like night.
This room - it feels so tight;
condensed with screams and fights.
I also find it impolite
to sneak into bed by twilight.
Isn't it my right?
To ban you out of sight?
Jesus, where's the might
to bask in this earthly delight?
And to whom I may invite:
Prepare for the mundane and trite.
A startling impression's my fright;
to see your face cherry white.