And you're in your bed,
thinking about everything that happened during the day

and how bad it can sometimes go at work
and you remember how cruel people are

"people are not good to each other"
Maybe it's true what that man said

And as you look up at the ceiling you remember some good times
scarce and rare

And you wonder when your moment will come....

Your time to shine or to be somebody,
to be yourself

What if it's already happened?
I fucking hope not...

I look out the window and there's no stars, no moon
nothing
A vast darkness up there
Street lights dulled by some haze
no people,
a couple of parked cars
and only that

You close your eyes and feel nothing good,
but you hope for something good
whatever it is,
something from heaven,
some luck,
something you don't even know...

It's...