City of Night and the bitter winter's cold. Wrap you up in frostbite black, negative chills taking warmth without the decency to ask. Creeping in through the windows, every door and crack. Always waiting with a knife in it's teeth, brimming at the chance to attack. Moments after midnight, and the street is fast asleep. Candle burning long and bright, but thoughts come when there is peace. Trying like hell to get this right, soaking up scenes to make sense of this life. Patterns forming and drifting away, traditions lost, somethings can never be replaced.