Clock hands go lazily – tick-tock.
Why should they rush? It’s almost midnight.
The Night doesn’t need their help at all.
She comes into its own rights.

She’s powerful over all that’s here.
And under its cover of darkness and gloom
We are all here, all to the last man.
We’re all locked up now in full.

We’re like prisoners of this Night,
Calm, submissive and tamed.
And clock hands go straight and true,
They’re unfailing attached.

I’m a stranger in the Night.
Ask her let me come in.
Maybe she'll let me stay the night
And I’ll find the peace and meaning.