Walking all alone on a friday night,
no place to go and there's no one in sight.
There's a sense of ease in the air.
I don't even notice that there is no one there.
Comfort takes hold, angels guide my feet.
Somehow this walk has turned into a hazy dream.

Things to do, people to see.
That seems the case for everyone else,
but it's not for me.
Cold settles in as darkness begins,
while streets fill with people's anxious desires.

The wind chills my face, and it's noise offers a brief escape.
My shadow is all I bring, and at this moment it's a definite and physical thing.
A friend to have when no one else calls,
my companion when there is no one to speak to.

It's become too normal to be all alone, but there's
No one friend to identify to call on the phone.
Loneliness belongs to the distinct few,
yet who should you call when everyone has forgotten you?