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Come, Heavy Sleep Lyrics
Come heavy sleepe the image of true death;
And close up these my weary weeping eyes:
Whose spring of tears doth stop my vitall breath,
And tears my hart with sorrows sigh swoln cries:
Come and posses my tired thoughts worn soul,
That living dies, till thou on me be stoule.
Come shadow of my end, and shape of rest,
Allied to death, child to his blackfac'd night:
Come thou and charme these rebels in my breast,
Whose waking fancies doe my mind affright.
O come sweet sleepe; come, or I die for ever:
Come ere my last sleepe comes, or come never.
And close up these my weary weeping eyes:
Whose spring of tears doth stop my vitall breath,
And tears my hart with sorrows sigh swoln cries:
Come and posses my tired thoughts worn soul,
That living dies, till thou on me be stoule.
Allied to death, child to his blackfac'd night:
Come thou and charme these rebels in my breast,
Whose waking fancies doe my mind affright.
O come sweet sleepe; come, or I die for ever:
Come ere my last sleepe comes, or come never.
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This song is off of "Songs From the Labyrinth" and written by John Dowling.
I am so sad, I would prefer to sleep. My heart is torn with sorrow. I’m tired, worn out and can’t handle this, so sleep—why don’t you take it instead. Let life be still in me.
Come on, sleep. Just like death will make me forget, so will sleep—come and take this sadness away Because it’s driving me crazy So come on, sleep—if you don’t, I’ll die, so come or just forget it and never come
The siren, bright and beautiful today (These flights of mine that ever flew away …) Dare it now shatter with a drunken wing This hard, forgotten lake (This ice does cling!)
When the child’s brow With torment flushing red Implores white dreams to shed their hazy veils Two sisters, tall and fair, approach his bed Whose fingers glint with silver-colored nails The bored rain god spills his irritation over Darkening the whole city with an icy shower
Comes the charming evening Comes conspirator like on soft wolf tread
The handsome knave of hearts and the queen of spades In cynical communion, review their defunct amours As they laugh and twirl Round the feet of a girl Like the spring
His whole life, he had loved to read …
[paraphrased poetry
Knife—you were no knife But only the blue Toppling I would hold the sky …
While I keep silence? What word to I utter?
Dogs wax furious on days like this Let us share things between us No hard feelings? I was longing for a pee I’d left a damp spot where I sat Whereby the queen went under the awnings At the edge of the theater Where they are now installing a trap door! Struggling Not wanting to be lost Just like a miracle he puts his hand out to hers And just like a miracle, she smiles at him Just like a miracle
[paraphrased poetry]