I roll over because the sand is warmer there
Glancing at the sun, through the gaps in my hat
Hollowing for just moments, I can ignore
While the sleep is restful, my thoughts are full
Each clench of the fist draws iron from my side
The palace has no warm spots, but stinks of wealth
But at night by the fire, conversation can be great
While the sleep is restful, the house is still cold
Testify the great man who told the truth of the future
No matter what though, I won't be here to see it
The man and his future look similar to mine, Rigor Mortis
While the sleep is restful, it is forever.
