Rest My Head

Torn apart at the seams from being stretched too thin,
Burining the midnight oil again, what do you think, is it such a sin?
If the old man could add some hours to my day I'd surely find my way,
But in truth the moments in our lives no number could convey.

I will never have enough.

So where will I find myself when it's time to rest my head?
And who will be there by my side when it's all done and said?
The farther I go, the less that I know for sure, or so it seems,
I try to connect with all due respect but somehow, I get stuck in the between