Tekst:
S colvin
It is the dead of the night
Oh the dead of the night
I live on a dream, it came to me
When I was young
I brought it here, and now for years
The streets of london keep it safe and warm
Every morning it dies and it is reborn
In the dead of the night
I keep a pencil and a book
I say this is how a life can look
Russian roulette, french-kissed cigarette
And the silence like an anvil
The things that you learn, but now all
That burns
Is a candle
And the fog melts over the night, and
It softens the edges
I begin to write in the dead of the night
A bead of sweat runs down my arm
And I drink it from my skin
It is the most real thing that I feel
It is communion
Bless the meek
Heal the sick
Protect the weak
In the dead of the night
It is the dead of the night
Oh the dead of the night
I live on a dream, it came to me
When I was young
I brought it here, and now for years
The streets of london keep it safe and warm
Every morning it dies and it is reborn
In the dead of the night
I keep a pencil and a book
I say this is how a life can look
Russian roulette, french-kissed cigarette
And the silence like an anvil
The things that you learn, but now all
That burns
Is a candle
And the fog melts over the night, and
It softens the edges
I begin to write in the dead of the night
A bead of sweat runs down my arm
And I drink it from my skin
It is the most real thing that I feel
It is communion
Bless the meek
Heal the sick
Protect the weak
In the dead of the night
