If I will toss and turn an hour or so
Before I can drift off, why, who's to blame?
Is it my neighbor, who, I'll have you know,
This night, like every other evening, came
Back to her rooms at one a.m., or two
(I'm not sure which), and turned her music on?
Is it the friend who called me (as you do)
Around that time say his girlfriend's gone,
And ask me for advice? Is it the girl
I wish would give me even that attention?
Is it my job, which keeps me in a whirl
All day long? Or is it just convention?
No, it is none of these; it's only me
Who never can find sleep efficiently.
No comments:
Post a Comment