I wish I could still see the beauty of the night,
Instead of the emptiness of house windows and the desolation of pavements.
I wish I could find the halogen streetlights enchanting,
Instead of seeing the loneliness of their orange hearts and forlorn glow.
I wish I could wish upon the stars in the velvet darkness,
Instead of knowing with cold clarity that they are dead and billions of miles from me.
When, I wonder, did the night become sad? When did the streetlights become cold?
When did the stars lose their magic?