Brave men are broken nightly in their bed
In a desert of useless moonlight
There’s a howling emptiness gnawing through their mattress and their head

You can't just go on like that, sitting with melancholy purring on your lap 
Just petting the gap between you and yourself 


Alex Keiling (*)

...

"tonight the stars reduce us back to nothing"

When the hungry ghost of your love whispers in my ear