I Need To Sleep

Alone in bed I look at the ceiling through the dark,
Its cracks reform to become a question mark,
I stare at the worn paint, try not to blink,
It’s impossible to sleep so I start to think,
I think of my friends, who have left our city,
Gone abroad, where the future is supposed to be,
We message each other but it’s not the same,
…..I miss our Saturdays

This is real life, pure reality,
University and girlfriends mean friendship slips away,
Alone I walk a path which is not very wide,
I’m an empty suit of armour—is this adult life?
It’s tough, how fast the clock goes round,
Some people smoke to slow it down,
I cry but I’m not made of sadness,
I’m a boxer, but I’m a pacifist,
We all want a well oiled future and a fancy car,
Would do anything to get it, deal drugs, go too far,
We’re a school of fish full of jostling dreams,
But only a few of us will ever get out of the net
I think of my anger, which I need to start managing,
Need a gulp of air against the fire and the lightning,
And yes I want the problems in my pockets to shut up,
But my anger is beginning to hurt those I love,
I breathe. I think of that girl who said to me
‘Hey you poor bastard, just living the dream’
Looking at her I saw all the booze she’d had,
When I searched in her eyes I saw that she was sad,
And I think about it every single night,
So much different music, but we dance just one life,
And it’s often in the longest silences,
That the truth- comes -to light.

I think of those who sleep outside,
When they wake, no toast or jam in a pot,
And the girls, who in between glasses of wine,
Lose their innocence in the corner of a parking lot,
Love, where you at? We miss you down here,
Do it for us, for the people who fear,
We won’t let hate dominate,
Though they feed us lies on a plate,
They want us to swallow all their stories,
Their goal is to stir our pain around,
They want opposition, paranoia, explosion,
But of course I like colours, I’m from the pink town
We’re never content with what we’ve got, believe me,
Barely arrived in one place before you wish that you were leaving,
And wise people know the truth to be,
That whilst fish dream of flying, birds dream of swimming.
Still in my T-shirt and boxers, still in my bed
Still looking at the ceiling and at the crack overhead
I try again to relax, the dark is so deep,
Monday night, 5:30 am, I need to get to sleep.