CLOSE AT HAND

Time’s obsolete at midnight
When I’m singing to the dead
When I’m calling out across the darkness
To the voices in my head

This is the one for midnight
Where I’m wondering how you’ve been
Where I’m hoping without any faith
I’ll see your face again

Yeah, this is the one for midnight
Where I can’t help but say your name
Where I can’t help but cry myself to sleep
For those who’ve lost the game

This is the final one for midnight
When the words may find new shapes
When those who’ve gone before me
Prep a ghastly, me-shaped space