The soft caress of inky night
Eventually will fade to dawn
And reach out towards the growing light

With fingers black but turning white
Until the tips are all but gone
The soft caress of inky night

Comforts in the morning bright
The melodies of dusk go on
And reach out towards the growing light

To clear their mind, improve their sight
To seek the grey eyed swimming swan
The soft caress of inky night

Captures hills without a fright
Traveling as the hours withdrawn
Reaches out towards the growing light

The mourning sky brings red tinged spite
And of it does accept the pawn
The soft caress of inky night
And reach out towards the growing light