I like this time of the night,
Between yesterday and today,
A period of transition
Is when I have my dinner,
Not that it tastes any better,
But hey! Another day is just
an hour away, but,
Is it any different?

Two degrees of separation,
And thirty minutes to add,
I want to meet my seventeen,
And tell her it'll all be fine,
I was alone then,
I'm simply lonely now,
Two degrees of separation,
And ten minutes to midnight.

Dessert during transition,
I like to make a joke
Of routine extraordinaries.
After all, midnight is just
Midnight.

That's two over four,
Like gin over beer,
The rain should stop,
Once this madness unfolds.

You break the fifth
Over the song I love,
In the distance they play,
Truth or dare (now who cares?)

I was like you once,
Angry and indifferent,
Now I simply blind myself,
With more than I care to see.

Sit down, the sun's rising,
Mercury skies hover for you,
Anger's just a tonic boy,
She's already far gone.

Another day for a stranger's stare,
You might find her approval there,
They all come and go,
Between the wreck and shallow water.

Black tea and bread,
Should ease the pain,
Did they only warn you about love?
And forget the morning-after?

Head now, join the robot race,
Black ties and that filthy smile,
They can see your gin stained tongue,
But not the heart it speaks.

Make love, not silence.
Wage your war, not indifference.

You enjoyed it, did you not?
Long black stockings
That ran up to your thigh,
Where did you hide
Those lovely white stockings?
Do they sweat innocence still?

I envy all those people
Who can sell their soul;
All those poems of righteousness,
Are but another insipid way
Of justifying what we truly are,
Underneath the white light.

Then again, I see your skin and mine,
The likeness is discomforting,
If you are as jaded as I am,
Why do you like your black stockings?
Maybe we can look at everything
Like a red blur, simply passing by.

I cling to my ring,
It's my only permanence,
My tattoo will only fade,
Isn't that pleasantly comforting?
You walk in and out
In the dead of the night,
And I think again,
When we're so miserable apart,
Why do you like your black stockings?