Sleep tight, my child.

Don’t let the bed bugs bite.

No more dreams of dynamite.

Say your prayers and look bright.

Just in case the world takes flight.

Do you fear the glow of the rosy moon?

Then, I will sing you a popular tune.

Lullaby of the Apocalypse.

Sleep. Sleep. Sleep.

It will be all right.

Sleep tight, my child.

Jane Ranzman