It is two it is three it is four in the morningThey are sleeping think of them sleeping.It is two it is three it is four in the morningAll in their beds think of them, think of them sleepingThe gray-haired mothers are sleepingOut walking, walking home, you are still out walkingLike houses viewed from incoming airplanes – tiny and so many –The gray-haired mothers are sleepingYou have this thought, it comes to you out of…