Well, it's late at night.   There's nobody around.   Just the sounds of the cars   Upon the asphalt ground.   It's the waiting time,   When the hours grow still.   I gaze on through the glass   Inside my windowsill.   Though I know that you must be   Somewhere in this world,   In this place where, at birth,   You and I were both hurled,   To think that we once were relating   Is a thing that has almost grown foreign to me.      It's a bad sight,   Such a terrible waste,   To spend your time talking   In such bad taste.   It's the same old line,   Though it's not you I blame.   It's your teachers and television   That you put to shame.   The night's lasting longer   Because I've filled my head   With the things I could have done   And the words I could have said.   But, in truth, I was only spectating   And that's a permanent part of reality.      So many rude lines,   So many petty crimes   And you don't feel a need   To apologize.   Tonight is the time   That you stick in my mind,   But from now on I won't become   Vandalized.      Now the room's started filling   With the dawn's early light   And the end has arrived   Of this long night.   I turn off the television   And I hit the bed   While your shade is still haunting   My ever-vulnerable head.   And there's no use   In trying to compromise   When the kindest things we say are when we tell eachother lies   But it's time I should quit my complaining   And behave with a little more dignity.         So many rude lines,   So many petty crimes   And you don't feel a need   To apologize.   Tonight is the time   That you stick in my mind,   But from now on I won't become   Vandalized.