For all these years I prayed for sleep; just a night of rest.
But it would have meant that you were gone and I would be alone.
Now your gone and I can rest but sleep it doesn't come.
I miss you so and would give up all my sleep just to have you back and well.
Three o'clock, the witching hour and the time you left.
Each night for over a year, you woke me up to talk and ask me where you were.
Still each night at three o'clock, I find myself awake; waiting for a visit; just to feel your presence and watch the light bulbs flicker.
Then sleep will come and I will rest and dream you here, just to talk awhile.
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