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 gla** 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 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.