I can't tell you where to go,
but I hope you know,
there is so much out the door.
Bittersweet notes make me want to see more.
Far faraway my mind drifts, to a land so somber.
Making it so hard to slumber.
Instead of that somber place, how about you sing, a song.
If you're not able to escape, then accept it and sing yourself to sleep.
Better to sing a song so bittersweet and weep.
Then to sit and think of being better off a weed.
Please, sing to me your beweep.
Oh sweet little sheep,
let's sing some lullabies.