This is a strange thing
A very peculiar thing
This middle-of-the-night thing
Feels like a second-life thing.
Quite a particular thing
Only after midnight thing
Same way every time thing
Makes my inhibitions into nothing.
It’s like an alter-ego thing
A Dr. Jekyll meets Mr. Hyde thing
That kind of bridge across the gap thing
That lets me say and think just about anything.
I don’t know the root of this thing
Nor do I know how long this thing
Will continue to make me feel these things
Long after the sun makes the clouds sing
I have always this one Thing,
Sitting in the back of my thinking
Even after the rising sun brings
Light into my sphere of living,
My mind works differently
After Midnight’s ring,
When the chimes sound long,
Then time recoils like a spring.
We both ignore the pending day,
Myself and Time, just lingering
Like two backroom gamblers hidden in darkness,
We both hedge our bets for the same thing:
Perhaps just this time, we will escape and avoid the return of