Alone, by the window I sit,
on my chair, and see the dusk,
Just before the lamp is lit,
rushly, I move under the mask.

You aren't with me, oh love,
I'm lacked of your tender cares;
To get into my room above,
No strength to climb the stairs.

I want to tell you how I feel,
that I think about you everyday,
All these feelings are so real,
that I often plan out what to say.

I wish you a pleasant night,
keeping awake myself too late,
I've dreamt under this light,
of being hurt, and unfortunate.

by John Collins

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