I envy those who can sleep,
Without worry, without pain;
I envy those who can dream,
Of a misty morning’s rain

I envy them their peace, the bar so raised
I envy them their solace; I envy them their joy
It be well earned, or even misplaced
I now regret every waking hour I spent as a boy…

When flowing through rivers, turbulent and cold
Of dreams, swept along, in memories of old;
I wake in terror, sweating, shivering, sad
At the hours of sleep I wish I had…

Moldy beds, planks of wood, granite, stone or stair
Some people fall asleep, just about anywhere …
And here I envy them all, because I cannot sleep
Why I do not know, maybe ‘cos life’s not fair?