There are pins on my pillow and I can't sleep,
Some are painted the bright colors you only see in dreams,
Some are lines, shapes, hues you see displayed on a modern art's canvas' seams.
Some emit words sewn together into a stream.

There are pins on my pillow and I can't sleep,
they sprout like water droplets hitting a window pane,
ugh my mind, my eyes are in pain.
I think I'm going insane.

There are pins on my pillow and I can't sleep,
They say to count the sheep,
but what if I am a sheep,
bleep bleep bleep,
I should paint sheep,
are there songs about sheep?
Maybe I should write one.
Ooh, and a story too,
find a way to make it a best seller,
maybe throw in some ****** Doo.

There are pins on my pillow and I can't sleep,
to pry them out is to let them sprout,
the sunlight shines through my window,
a yawn escapes my mouth.
I stare at the pins and I can't help but fall in love,
they are the babies from my pink squishy cove,
They make me want to weep
for my body
my mind is tired,
SOS someone give some drugs to fall asleep and rule my dream landscape empire,
I wanna fall into the darkness, sleep till noon.

Please do not wake me, or the gears will start spinning soon.