Midnight speaks.
You know, the way blizzard winds whisper through a cabin wall.
And you really only listen, truly listen, while lieing in bed.
You're still enough to finally feel it, hear it, know what it's saying.
Midnight speaks.
In the way the stars change directions and slip behind the clouds.
The way the moon travels insignificantly across the sky.
The way every small glimmer seems oddly brighter than daylight itself.
Midnight speaks.
In a solumn, slow, quiet tone. A night owl tone. A nocturnal tone.
It speaks in secrets and stories and neverending sentences.
Midnight speaks.
To the silent souls who dare to stay in the darkness long enough to listen.
You know, the way blizzard winds whisper through a cabin wall.
And you really only listen, truly listen, while lieing in bed.
You're still enough to finally feel it, hear it, know what it's saying.
Midnight speaks.
In the way the stars change directions and slip behind the clouds.
The way the moon travels insignificantly across the sky.
The way every small glimmer seems oddly brighter than daylight itself.
Midnight speaks.
In a solumn, slow, quiet tone. A night owl tone. A nocturnal tone.
It speaks in secrets and stories and neverending sentences.
Midnight speaks.
To the silent souls who dare to stay in the darkness long enough to listen.
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