In the still of the night,
when I should be asleep,
thoughts run through my head.
Many are shallow, some are deep.
Words, some familiar, some not,
rattling around, in this old mind.
Most are complimentary.
Seldom are they unkind.
In the still of the night,
when I should be asleep,
thoughts run through my head.
Many are shallow, some are deep.
Words, some familiar, some not,
rattling around, in this old mind.
Most are complimentary.
Seldom are they unkind.