I am Jack, awake at night.
Staring at the ceiling, eyes peeled open,
Tired and without energy, but his mind insists
That he stay wake.
I am Jack, dreaming, asleep.
Falling, flying, fighting.
I toss and turn on my coffin-bed,
I am restless, tired in dreams.
I am Jack, awoken and slow.
I struggle to wake and stumble to go.
Staring at the ceiling, still half-dreaming,
I start my engine, and get up to prepare.
The day ahead will be tiresome,
But the night-time's always there.