Not too many books are read at night. Even the hungriest dog is not fed at night. The day may be spent with all colours. But your memories paint me red at night. It's easy to cry with tears, It's tough when tears are bled at night. A part of me lives life with others, The part you took, stays dead at night. I weave hope to revive, But words break the thread at night.

Not too many books are read at night. Even the hungriest dog is not fed at night. The day may be spent with all colours. But your memories paint me red at night. It's easy to cry with tears, It's tough when tears are bled at night. A part of me lives life with others, The part you took, stays dead at night. I weave hope to revive, But words break the thread at night.