Smoke runs through the air, the lights are low. The beat on the ground, the flash in their eyes. It's been good to be this bad, so better yet to make me last.
My father's hand leaves me here, my mother's loss are my seldom tears. I'll whistle down the wind, as the night springs up behind me again.
I'll walk into bars and the dark, into what I just don't know. I'll walk away, but I'll be back. I raise my hand to the stars, hail and farewell. Long may I dream, may I dream well.
This is the night. This is the end of one hope, the dawn of another . This is the beginning of all that may yet be. This is solitude. This is moonlight. This is the darkness.
"I will do what I have to do. I will do what I must." - The Sandman.