The Still Of The Night:

In the still of the night
Only broken hearts cry,
Inside those lonely hours
That hardly ever fly.

They moan and they waller
Tucked in their beds,
With visions of sugarplumbs
Not in their heads.

They soak and they weep
Into the wee hours,
And drown out the pain
With all of their showers.

You can't hear the babies
Their eyes are sealed,
Nor rain on the tin roof
To make a big deal.

You can't hear the cats
Being chased by the dogs,
Nor my next door neighbor
Who's been sawing logs.

You can't hear the television
It cuts off at nine,
Nor those rapid movements
From the hands of time.

You can't hear the roosters
Cause it's not even dawn,
Nor any late night parties
Of which to carry on.

Just me and this heartache
And the still of the night,
And a whole lot of tears
That fell outta sight.