First Light

The lamps are low to match the jazz
Now broadcast on the radio
Tuned to what that frequency has
Whenever morning starts to glow
Round a bout when the birds will sing
Just a bit before the break of day
When bats are still upon the wing
And have not come in from their play
Of aeronautic insect snatch
Showing mosquitos who is boss
When on their fangs those bugs attach
Just after their high pathways cross
All through the quiet of the night...
Except for echolocation flight!