Cradle me back to sleep

Fingers at my throat

Make life the way it was,

A long snaking catwalk


No amount of the fifty's jazz

And the sixty's blues can 

Do what your fingers did

Preased against my throat

Putting me to sleep

To the blissfull existance between

Two words;

With and Without


Without my sleep I am

Like any common man,

Its shower work eat repeat,

With somehing so sublime to make me question

Why do the waves yearn to return to the soil

Who is to blame, who is just?

And how much longer will I stride

Sleepless and depraved,

A common man

Without your fingers

In my life

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