Three in the morning
My name is Jack And I jump
Trying to reach bed Fastened safely to The ceiling
Out of arm's jurisdiction By the length of a leg And the dissolution of Mass produced tired

Wakingness has become My dream I could bend buildings And fly if I tried But I'm too preoccupied Playing the same old games And jumping for Sleep Why won't you Be mine Fair lady who Shuts eyes and kisses Goodnight on the lips

The words are on My lips Lost in the traffic that Spews from Mouth into webs Unable to catch the Flies I once thought were At my command

As I was their lord As you are mine I'm begging be merciful and Sew shut my peepers Before I break for The six hundredth time since I started keeping track Tonight