Oh how I hate the night
Oh How I hate the night,
When dreams don't come and nightmares fly.
And all you fualts are held up high,
O how I hate the night.
When puny men are made so strong,
And all that's right shall be wrong.
When evil shall be justified,
And all the strong have cried.
And death shall not seem so bad,
When in dreary robes we are clad.
And looking for a final rest,
We find a place that hell can't best.
Oh How I hate the night,
When dreams don't come and nightmares fly.
And all you fualts are held up high,
O how I hate the night.
Matt Waterman
3/19/97
(:->~