When late nights turn into early mornings
And all our thoughts are drifting
When no one else is awake in the house
And the silence is only broken by quiet music
Then all the shadow poeple gather
And we sing the song of sad children.

When melancholy kids finally lay to rest
And the sun is already waking
When mournful youth wander into school halls
And a haze of tired gloom hangs
Then we all roam the halls
And it belongs to the mute boys girls of the nights

[ It's a sad night, and who knows when those really end. ]