restless child, fitful sleep (ever) in the throes of your heart’s wildest dreams don’t bow, don’t turn around, don’t ever look back (but) prepare now your blade for the night’s sweet hunt reckon with your inner fears, bury deep the tears, crying is for later and later is for sleeping
insomnia’s twisted child, wakeful till the dawn ever trembles the hand of the one who carries God restless child, fitful sleep crawl into your sorrow
ah, sorrow
puncture your eyes cut off your ears pull out your hair and become once more yourself in the night’s hungry dark