It’s four am I cannot sleep
I cannot think, I cannot weep
There is no heaviness in my lids
No sleepy sand, which to get rid

I sit here wanting, needing sleep
But where oh where are those damned sheep
I do belieive the wolves have come
and gobble up,yet every One

So now I lay me down to sleep
I am so tired, there are no sheep
Now I must, I trust, I can
Find a substitute — Maybe the fan?