A nightengale sings at the break of day.
Little children come out to play.
Sleepy parents go to work,
Shadows at the edges lurk.

The song so pure and full of joy,
Is tired as the day goes by.
Grumpy children yell and shout,
Parents scream and run about.
Shadows creeping nearer.

Towards sunset, day almost away,
Nightengale sleeps under the hay.
Children storm and slap and shout,
Daddy's let the garbage out.
Shadows growing larger.

As the bird's head under wing,
Shadows come and howl and ding.
Children cry without the bird,
Parents do not hear a word.
Shadows getting fuller.

By darkest night the shadow black
Creeps up through doors and window-sats.
Children dream their trembling dreams,
Parents heard but are not seen.
Shadows at their fullest.