HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO SLEEP
WITH ALL THIS POURING RAIN
AND HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO SLEEP
WITH ALL THAT NOISE
AND HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO SLEEP

When I can't sleep.
When I keep thinking
About the future
And how much I want it to be now,
And how badly I want to be
Next to you,
In your arms,
My skin against yours.

How am I supposed to sleep,
When I can't grasp your hands?

How am I supposed to sleep
When I miss you so much?

I guess I will,
I guess I will
Somehow.

But not now.
Sleep is evasive.
I'll keep searching.