There's a battle that most folk will fight
When old age slips onto the pavement
It's weapon of choice you will find
Is that of sleep deprivation

You lie awake in the middle of night
Tossing and turning on the edge of your dreams
Insomnia its battle cry
As your white flag is torn apart at the seams

With your mind like a kite in the night breeze
Flying this way and that with your lack of sleep
Too far behind the enemy lines
To even find the help that you need

While you'd love to sneak back over the border
Into the comfort of a soft feather bed
One good nights sleep is what the Commandant's ordered
So as to rest your weary head

Still the battle rages on nightly
The enemy both sneaky and sly
In whose grip you will stay as you lay awake
With insomnia as its battle cry