Stranger of the Night

Stranger of the night,
with no face and no fears,
dreaming empty thoughts,
and crying dry tears.

Stranger of the night,
thinking of lost thoughts,
imagining old hope,
and no gold, just empty pots.

Stranger of the night,
carrying an empty bag,
nothing to call a home,
nothing to go by but an old rag.

Stranger of the night,
just tiptoeing along,
no words to speak,
just another rythmeless song.

Stranger of the night,
nobody to love and see,
just a stranger in the night,
until somebody finds me.