They sit and watch and wonder why
I will not ever close my eyes
And pause the world to rest a while
To liven up my tired smile
To all the world I seem quite fine
But deep inside my troubled mind
I hold the thought for which they thirst
So when they ask, I speak these words
'Sleep is for the living'
Not for those who are dead inside
Healing broken hearts and pride
Caring for the lost few
Who made them happier than they knew
No, sleep is for the younger man
Who really couldn't give a damn
About who he should or shouldn't keep
And can whistle himself, carefree, to sleep
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem