And their feathers once so fine grew torn and tattered And in the end they traded their tired wings For the resignation that living brings. - Jackson Browne

Though Adam was a friend of mine, I did not know him well.
He was alone into his distance, he was deep into his well.
I could guess what he was laughing at, but I couldn't really tell.
Now the stories told that Adam jumped, but I'm thinking that he fell.

Between the darkness on the street
And the houses filling up with light.
Between the stillness in my heart
And the roar of the approaching night.
Somebody's calling after somebody,
Somebody turns the corner out of sight,
Looking for somebody
Somewhere in the night.<p>Tender is the night.
When you hold your baby tight,
Tender are the motions, tender is the night.

You could hold her tight
With all your might,
But she'd slip through your arms like the wind.
And be back in flight,
Back into the night,
Where you might never see her again.