Many a night I spent
Without a glimpse of
That soft tenderness
They call sleep,
My deamons crawling
Their cunning ways into
My bed, under my blankets,
To surround myself with
Uncertainties and fears.
Many a night I spent
Without a glimpse of
That soft tenderness
They call sleep,
My deamons crawling
Their cunning ways into
My bed, under my blankets,
To surround myself with
Uncertainties and fears.