Text:
Frank Turner Sleep Is For The Week

local landmarks, trying to find out where I was, And maybe even find a bus back home. I was longing for a shower, and for clean sheets, and a charger for

black, But I can tell stories that most can hardly dream. Dreaming is a luxury, Like stopping-staring and beauty sleep. I?ll stop when I?m finished, And sleep is for

It hadn?t been a day when everything had turned out right ? She called me up and asked me to come over in the night, To make her cups of tea and listen

always ends the same, With you sad and me far away. And every time I repeat the line That the fault?s not mine and I wasn?t unkind. But the worst part is

could be so much better than I am. If I could just relax, then I could admit That I don?t know what I want, but this is not it. If I could just recall

quite a few I don?t, whose numbers found their way into my phone, But they might come along anyway, you never really know. None of this is going anywhere

fade Quicker than mistakes that were made. Mornings when I?m coming down, being driven round the bend, Make for days when I?m losing my friends For all