| At that time of the night | 
| When streetlights throw crosses through window frames | 
| Paranoia roams where the shadows reign | 
| Oh, at that time of the night | 
| At that time of the night | 
| Your senses tangled in some new perfume | 
| Criticism triggers of a loaded room | 
| Oh, at that time of the night | 
| So if you ask me | 
| How do I fell inside | 
| I could honestly tell you | 
| We’ve been taken on a very long ride | 
| And if my owners let me | 
| Have some free time some day | 
| With all good intention | 
| I would probably run away | 
| Clutching the short straw | 
| At that time of the night | 
| When questions rally in an open mind | 
| Summon all your answers with an ice cube chime | 
| At that time of the night | 
| At that time of the night | 
| Pretend you’re off the hook with the telephone | 
| Your confidence wounded in a free fire zone | 
| Oh, at that time of the night | 
| So if you ask me | 
| Where do I go from here | 
| My next destination | 
| Even isn’t really that clear | 
| So if you join me | 
| And get on your knees and prey | 
| I’ll show you salvation | 
| We’ll take the alternative way | 
| Clutching the short straw | 
| If I had enough money | 
| I’d buy a round for that boy over-there | 
| A companion in my madness in the mirror | 
| The one with the silvery hair | 
| And if some kind soul | 
| Could please pick up my tab | 
| And while they’re at it | 
| If they could pick up my broken heart | 
| Warm wet circles… |