They Only Come Out At Night.

Nine to five is idle time.
The phantom-guided psyche hides.

Dormant schemes lie in wait.
A swell-performing subjugate.

A show per day, a grand illusion,
in hopes of meager restitution.

Spent graciously upon the evening.
Scorched pockets of our daily seething.

Debauchery of any fashion,
will do upon celestial clashing.

First glance of set, and all permitted.
A full day's brainstorm in frutition.

Torrential tidings to all in faction.
May phantoms aid your plans to action.