Wither away the pining dusk after which dawn has fled
Away is the sun and the night skies shine unto us stars
To which I cannot explain what it means to me to bled
All these years upon the screen of the machines scars
The royal treatment to which it is to die in a scene
A place and time which is like this time here and now
I want to be with the right Woman after all things seen
And that all that shows is all that I’ve ever can know.