Sleepless in the airport hotel,
Where every molecule of air is tainted
By the aviation fuel that will fly me tomorrow,
Up high and far away
from the air conditioned box that
I have hired to have a throbbing headache in.
And the next night, I can’t sleep again
Although I’ve flown and travelled
To the extreme quiet of extreme Spain.
Being city bred,
I can sleep sound next to the sea,
Where ceaseless shushing waves soothe me into sleep,
Reminding me of the endless ebb and flow,
Of London traffic.
And if I wake to piss,
My anxious brain,
Does not let me sleep again
Without its usual background refrain
Of the sounds of more and more stuff
Moving from here to there,
Punctuated by sirens
And the rattle and hiss of nocturnal trains
Whereas out here on Iberian plains
I lay awake, waiting to hear
An eagle owl hoot
In the black black night.
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