The evening hangs beneath the moon, A silver thread on darkened doom. With closing eyes and resting head, I know that sleep is coming soon. Upon my pillow, safe in bed, A thousand pictures fill my head. I cannot sleep, my mind's aflight, And yet my limbs seem made of lead. If there are noises in the night, A frightening shadow, flickering light, Then I surrender unto sleep, Where clouds of dream give second sight. What dreams may come, both dark and deep, Of flying wings and soaring wing, As I surrender unto sleep. As I surrender unto sleep. As I surrender unto sleep. Sleep, sleep, sleep. Sleep, sleep, sleep. Sleep. Sleep, sleep, sleep. Sleep, sleep, sleep. Sleep, sleep.
