It is the dead of the night
Oh, the dead of the night
I live on a dream, it came to me when I was young
And I brought it here and now for years
The streets of London keep it safe and warm
Every morning it dies and it is reborn
Into the dead of the night
In the dead of the night
Oh, the dead of the night
I keep a pencil and a book, I say this is how a life can look
Russian Roulette, French-kissed cigarette and the silence like an anvil
And the things that you learn but now all that burns is the candle
And the fog melts over the night and it softens the edges I begin to write
Into the dead of the night
In the dead of the night
Oh, the dead of the night
A bead of sweat runs down my arm and I drink it from my skin
It is the most real thing that I feel, it is communion
Bless the meek, heal the sick, protect the weak
Into the dead of the night
In the dead of the night
Into the dead of the night
In the dead of the night
Oh, the dead of the night
Artist: Gene Quill
Artist: 112
Artist: Electric Light Orchestra
Artist: Cold