Two Thirty Four AM,
The clock slowly ticks by to the next minute,
As I wait for a knock on my door.
Dim lights,
They slow down my heart,
And it pounds like never before.
There's a gentle hum
Of the wind in the trees,
As I wait for a knock on my door.
They howl at the moon,
And they glare out with lust,
They always seem to want more.
I open my door,
Impatient, annoyed, worried,
As I wait for the knock on my door.
You said you'll be here,
Eighty nine minutes ago,
Or was it Seventy four?
I run my hands
Along the white walls,
As I wait for the knock on my door.
Didn't hear of it,
Till the sun was up,
But you were no more.