You may not dismiss me yet, sweet light, For I have yet to do unto to you what you have done unto me in the course of a day. In the ticking of hours I stray, Weaving in a decision to retire now or strive to fufill a career Before tomorrow. You may not dismiss me yet, sweet night, For I have yet to dream my last, Predictions hiding in the feathers of a pillow. Perhaps I can conjure one more word, just one more word before the end. Just... ...one... ...last... Carrie