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It's midnight in the city, a gently falling rain, just the odd car passing, the distant rumble of a train

I sit here and listen to the creatures of the night, listen because I can't see them, they stay out of sight

One sounds stands out above the rest, continually it's heard. Even in the darkest hours the singing of a bird

I know not what she looks like, is she colourful or drab? Well I don't really care that much because her songs are never sad

All night she sings while others sleep, her songs so loud and clear, bringing happiness in the darkness to all who are there to hear

Why does she sing her sweet refrain through the long hours of the night? Perhaps she sings for those of us who have to stay awake

Then come the early morning light and a mighty choir is heard, no human intervention just a choir of singing birds

It's with reluctance that I must leave this place with the coming of the light. But later I'll be back again to hear her singing through the night
Written one wet night while on security duty and yes she did sing
I used to hope you'd bring me flowers
But now I grow my own
I've grown a whole garden now
Waiting for you to come back home
I used to hope you'd bring me flowers
But I'm no longer naive
My garden has since died
You're no longer someone I believe
I used to hope you'd bring me flowers
But my dear I should've known
That all my hoping would do
Is make me realize I'm alone
I used to hope you'd bring me flowers
I'd hoped you'd love me too
But those flowers never came
And my dear neither did you
For Trevor
The artist adds another stroke
Every night

He hates to see his paint
wasted on such an ugly canvas

He tells himself
Maybe tomorrow I wont waste it

But painting has become such a habit
that it seems like he cant stop

until all his paint
is gone
try looking a little bit more into it
Look at me pretty eyes,
you do not notice im in dicise,
you quietly stare at skys,
in a dream like hase with love on rise
this is for a boy i used to like he had the most dreamy eyes but never actually noticed me with them ( he had a girlfriend)
All it took was one look
One memory
One flashback
One feeling
I'm back again
I remember it all.
The sadness
The irritability
The feeling of worthlessness
The feeling of impending death
The breakdown...
I'm back again.
And this time may be the last.
People always wonder
why do people do drugs?
Why do people smoke?
Because it's one of the only things
that will be there for someone.
Love disappears
People leave
*Disasters happen
and that cigarette
will always be there
waiting for you to pick it up
and feel the calm that sweeps through your body.
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