In the morning when you sleep and I'm awake,
I remember what you said to me during your break.
"Come with me, soldier boy, listen to my cry,"
" Follow what I say without a question as to why."
You're still deep into dreaming-- I don't follow blinded,
I don't hear the mute, and I don't like to be reminded
Of your careless scrutiny and single-mindedness.
Have you ever watched the river flow, and do you know where it goes?
I can only tell you that I know what you don't expose.
I was warned of you, in a place beyond your haughtiness,
In a place above your mediocrity and your scheming alertedness
That keeps you awake at night, plotting sleepiness.
Its a problem that you can't fall asleep all of a sudden,
Well, help yourself to my Sleepless Garden
At least then your mind will broaden
And the horse would finally be bestridden.
Sit there in my empty Sleepless Garden, empty-minded,
And God forbid a thought came to your head-- what a burden!
Would you even know what to do with it, you vermin?
No-- You would fail to understand it and be instantly bedridden.
The Sleepless Garden is a place for solutide,
But not a place for lonely magnitudes.
You won't feel alone at night, and you'll have time to reach new altitudes,
But I wont wait around for you-- not with your attitude.
