I don't mind working by myself,
usually stuck among my thoughts as it is.
But then there was that phone call to Mom
And she got that drop of worry in her voice,
"You're there...by yourself?"
because she's being ridiculous
Until I catch myself
looking over my shoulder
Watching blackened rooms
out of the corner of my eye and
Suddenly I can't stop thinking about the guy
Who stood outside the window
in a choir robe and clown mask
or How much I really hated that mask
and you know, I've never really like the dark...
Nightshift - it's a risk.