4 am feeds on a loneliness wrought with serpentine emotions . Night watches time differently as it moves in a dream state, filtering our reflections and fears through glass altering truth. We may have moments of clarity in the deep forest of the dark night, but for the most part the monsters of internal doubt blur our sleep deprived imaginations. Lost love wraps itself in the misery of wet tears and the curling smoke from the end of the last cigarette. Echoes of accusations, crawl under the skin, spreading goosebump guilt inside a broken spirit. Alone. Tormented by a ballad ripe with truth.
Someone turn the lights back on
I'll love you til all time is gone
You haven't looked at me that way in years
But I'm still here.