restless child, fitful sleep
(ever) in the throes of your heart’s wildest dreams
don’t bow, don’t turn around, don’t ever look back
(but) prepare now your blade for the night’s sweet hunt
reckon with your inner fears, bury deep the tears, crying is for later
and later is for sleeping
insomnia’s twisted child, wakeful till the dawn
ever trembles the hand of the one who carries God
restless child, fitful sleep
crawl into your sorrow
ah, sorrow
puncture your eyes
cut off your ears
pull out your hair
and become once more yourself
in the night’s hungry dark