Frolic

Let us drink from the waters of Lethe, let Orpheus steal us away

Away from this vale of tears, to a place where the spirits play

Where everything is possible, and let us frolic there, until the end of days.

Sleep, the last refuge of the truly unhappy, has been denied to me

Forgive the sense of entitlement, from which we are never truly free

It's just that I'm very tired, and now I would like to go to sleep.