There used to be a time when I was found alone. Around the clock no one called, the lights were low, and I was all alone. And here I sat and sang a love song that was meant for no one real. And here I sat and pleaded with time for something big that I could feel. And here I sat, content as night, for hours to be here as one. But for all those hours I spent with me, lately I'm finding none. I'm tied between relationships, the bons of love and care. And time is dispersed between the two, an hour here, several there. And where I went I'm not quite certain; tucked away behind a curtain. For who I am is attached to her, and moreso clung to him. Those times I spent so late at night, wittling away the night, well they've gone past and are no more, I'm wrapped up now and held on to tight. My foreign friends that cease to be, well I think they're some-what missing me. It's been ages since I've heard them speak and their lives are frozen without me. Which is, I guess, a bit okay since mine keeps moving on;perhaps more now than it ever was, now that those times are gone. I look at her and see her life in the smalles little gleam. And I take her hand and keep her close, for I'm the balance beam. And to my right is Mr. Right, holding onto me. Darkly I begin to wonder, minus me, where would they be? And without them, where would I stand?--I wouldn't. For here I'd sit and and plead with time for something big that I could feel. And here I'd sit, content as night, for hours to be here as one. But for all the hours I'd spent with me, I'd find that I'm poor company.