Still Got a Bullet for Sleep

(Speaking) Tried countin’ sheep once. They all ran.

Clock don’t tick, it drips like rain, Each drop a thought I can’t contain. Moon’s a wound that never fades, And my bed’s a grave I never made.

I still got a bullet for sleep, It keeps knockin’, but I dig too deep. Dreams don’t come where the damned reside, So I load my truth and let it ride.

The whiskey hums a lullaby, The kind that makes angels cry. If peace is rest, I’ll take the fight, I trust the dark more than the light.

I still got a bullet for sleep, It don’t bleed, it don’t weep. When the silence calls, I cock the gun, ‘Cause I ain’t done, I ain’t done.

Tried closing my eyes, but Hell gets loud. So I stare it down till it bows out proud. Ain’t no pillow built for men like me — Only dust, only decree.

I still got a bullet for sleep, A promise I ain’t bound to keep. When the reaper whispers, “Boy, you’re late,” I’ll grin and say, “I don’t do fate.”

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