We stand there quietly in the street lights,
Oh, so quiet in the yellow moonlight,
Watching cars speeding by,
Not even a glance, nay, not even a sigh.
This moonlight must be so very old,
The moonlight feels so very cold,
Yet we stand there, all of us,
We stand there, waiting for the Dusk.
When Dusk arrives, we must be swift,
When Dusk arrives, it will simply drift,
If this is a dream it is a horrible one,
For if this is a dream, the dreamer must have so much fun.
I know that soon this dream will end,
I know that the evil of my dreams’ friend,
And now I wait here for the Dawn,
I wait here, and prepare to mourn.
The Dawn will come with all evil’s might,
The Dawn will come, bringing the darkest light,
If tears spilled then, I did not feel,
The tears spilled then, the weight like the devil’s deal.
I cannot succumb to this painful slumber,
I cannot succumb to this torturous lumber,
Blinking once, twice, and once again,
This deal is the deal of Hell’s own men.