Insomnia (The 2nd Movement)
Insomnia, it strikes again,
As I lie wide awake.
My brain spins round and thoughts abound
As daylight starts to break.
I toss and turn, I watch TV,
I drink some Ovaltine.
I count some sheep to get some sleep
But dreams remain unseen.
As dawn begins to rise its head,
I panic in dismay.
I need a hug (or endless drugs)
To make it through the day.
With no one here to hold my hand,
I start to pace around.
The bastard birds awake in herds,
Their tweeting starts to sound.
I start to twitch and something snaps;
I reach beneath my bed.
My patience done, I grab my gun;
I’ll shoot the fuckers dead!
As birdies fall down one by one
And shots rings through the sky,
The sirens scream and some SWAT team
Decides to pass on by.
Now standing in my boxer shorts,
A shotgun in my hands
And laser sights beam through the night;
I may have peed my pants.
Insomnia, it struck again
But now I’m feeling well.
I’ve been chastised, I’m tranquilised
And banged up in a cell.
And as I drift to sleepy land,
I can’t help shed a tear.
As Psycho Fred climbs in my bed
And nuzzles on my ear.