english,
Every so often I stay up too late
Gazing upon stars I cannot see in the morning
Every so often I tend not to sleep
Thinking about things I don't think about in the day
Oh how I love the night and all its tranquil glory
Oh how I hate the night and all its eerie melancholy
Shadows where I can hide away my feelings
Shadows where I can show forth my thoughts
Late night contemplations I cannot convey to you
Instead, I speak of it at night
The silent listening I cannot get from you
In lieu, I ask for it when nobody's in sight
You, whom I cannot speak of sorrow
I'd rather speak with glee
You, whom I'll get to see again tomorrow
Will get to see another side of me
I cannot depend on the night forever
In truth, it will never understand
It will never realize that all I just wanted
Was the simple touch of your hand
Literary (Submission): Nyctophilia
Every so often I stay up too late
Gazing upon stars I cannot see in the morning
Every so often I tend not to sleep
Thinking about things I don't think about in the day
Oh how I love the night and all its tranquil glory
Oh how I hate the night and all its eerie melancholy
Shadows where I can hide away my feelings
Shadows where I can show forth my thoughts
Late night contemplations I cannot convey to you
Instead, I speak of it at night
The silent listening I cannot get from you
In lieu, I ask for it when nobody's in sight
You, whom I cannot speak of sorrow
I'd rather speak with glee
You, whom I'll get to see again tomorrow
Will get to see another side of me
I cannot depend on the night forever
In truth, it will never understand
It will never realize that all I just wanted
Was the simple touch of your hand
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