He takes another drinknOf what, who knows,nNo time to thinknHe'll wake up here tomorrownAlways alonennThe letter next to himnBegins I miss you EvelynnThen nothing more is writtennThis is no TV shownThis is real and he knowsnAnd the shadows from the windownAre casting shapes just like a puppet shownnOnce in the nightnOnce in the nightnOnce in the nightnOnce in the nightnnDecisions he has madenThe failures of a new decadenInform his every movementnHe has visions of atonementnnThe television saysnBeware, we're in our final daysnAnd a blonde canary gameshownFills up the screennOh Lord, she must be sixteen!nnAnd the shadows from the windownAre casting shapes just like a puppet shownnOnce in the nightnOnce in the nightnOnce in the nightnOnce in the nightnnAnd believing he couldnHe painfully stoodnHolding the framenAnd launched his aging body into the rainnnShe couldn't take the factsnShe just could not keep up the actnShe goes about her businessnShe is never alonenAnd this is no TV shownAnd the shadows from the windownStill casting shapes just like a puppet shownnOnce in the nightnOnce in the nightnOnce in the nightnOnce in the nightnnOnce in the nightnOnce in the nightnOnce in the nightnOnce in the night