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.