After last week's umpteenth song about being kind of broke, I thought I'd follow up with another riff from my greatest hits by playing around for the umptieth time with the subject of my ever returning sleeplessness. However, "A Midnight Song" shortly took a turn I didn't quite see coming. I began to ponder not merely my own sleeplessness, but the restlessness of my whole neighborhood following a brutal crime that took place not far away at all last week.
I live in a neighborhood filled with with families and seniors. The typical mild crime that takes place in the area seems to be drug related, which means that most of my neighbors don't have much to fear from it. It doesn't involve them. That line was crossed last week, when an attempted robbery turned deadly. There is a sense of sorrow and nervousness in the air that you can chew on.
I often lie awake late at night, peering out my window at the few lights that remain on in the apartments across the way. Those lights represent the others like me; the others who, for their own reasons, can't settle their minds to find the rest they've earned. I'm not sure if it's my imagination, but these past few nights, more windows seem to be lit up. We're still trying to settle down again.
lyrics
This is a midnight song
Every night I sing it to the cars passing by
Radio sings back to me while I shut my eyes
But sleep is not to visit for a long long time
This is an old refrain
Everyone has got a cross and this one's mine
The rooftop signals stretch for miles and I lose time
And all the neighbors count their blessings
Won't it please come back to me tonight
Can't it please come back again
This is the floodlight moon
The two cut down last week for coming home too soon
The groceries scattered on the walk, what can I do
but lie awake at night next to you
This is a midnight song
Every night I sing it to the cars passing by
Radio sings back to me while I shut my eyes
And sleep is not to visit for a long long time
Won't it please come back to me tonight
Can't it please come back again