The Midnight Man looks out upon a gloomless sky However the gloominess still resides deep within He remembers other nights With those Midnight Girls he calls his own. Calls his own… Ha!
Is she a girl of Flowers? She doesn’t blossom after days of showers. Yet even with that sweet, smell of fragrance, it wouldn’t live long in my remembrance. Is she a girl of Truth?
Love and Lust of luscious lips And my eyes burn to see her beauty So does my heart for which is tearing Which can live forever with immunity Love broken, so can’t be rebuilt