How I long to adjust the flow of my circadian rhythm
The mysterious comfort of cool pillows, I often fathom.
To catch glimpses of rest
To close my eyes, at best
To find time in this mess,
This life of distress.
Hard to fight the feeling
Of my eyelids backwards peeling
Tempted to let my mind doze
Stress-free, eyes closed
Rare is the time
When leisure feels like a crime.
Nostalgic for summertime,
Free time, or any time.
I wish it didn't have to be this way,
It could be bad timing, it's hard to say
Maybe it's just not meant to be,
But believe me, it's not you, it's me.