Something about nightfall and the city. Something about those eyes that look out from high of some highrise, out into the night, like beacons wanting to shine into the warmth of a new day, wanting to cry like a howling wolf and shed tears as though coming from the dismal chapters of a  rain forest, reaching into  times past of a forgotten earth and singing out until morning beckons.  What is about the many degrees of lonely, what is that haunts the inner self and walks across a moonlit night, what is it that wakens the heart before sleep can possibly come, that is something few will ever understand but feel deep inside...lonely lonely lonely lonely lonely...Mr. Lonely the song whispers....ain't got nobody...to call my own...Mr. Lonely....
but neither the ringing of the telephone from a wrong number somewhere or the crackling of a winter wind on the doorstep can put a stop to those feelings that embrace the entire being...its just...its just....there....everywhere....the big lonely....and it won't go away until the grip of time is released and a magic beam of light cries out.....help....help...ain't got nobody... ain't got nobody....so lonely....Mr. Lonely...sleep....sleep...ah....sleep.....quiet....till...
a new beginning....a new meaning... sets us free...
yes free....from the long embrace....of....
loneliness...and night turns to day!