lembrei-me agora de quem eu costumava ser:

Four o'clock, four o'clock never let me sleep. I close my eyes and pray for the garish light of day, like a frightened child I run from the sleep that never comes. Four o'clock, four o'clock, out of bed I creep to climb this tower of shame but the hour's still the same. Only madness knows my name at four o'clock. Why can we never go back to bed? Whose is the voice ringing in my head? Where is the sense in these desperate dreams? Why should I wake when I'm half past dead?

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