I know the dark delight of being strange,
The penalty of difference in the crowd,
The loneliness of wisdom among fools

I woke last night to the sound of thunder,
"How far off," I sat and wondered.
Started hummin' a song from 1962.
Ain't it funny how the night moves,
When you just don't seem to have as much to lose.
Strange how the night moves, with autumn closin' in.