Some times all I want to hear is silence and the dead of night the plovers call out over the grape vines searching towards to bay water skies and I admit that I sometimes indulge in my fears and see things in the corner of my eyes like HIM (the old one he nearly came to me last year and I felt him swallowing me up in the bed – for what its worth I do have a kind of love for him but he might think of me like , yeh like , It happened One Christmas 1977) but I love the sound of the night and all the hope it brings and the fears. all I want is someone wonderful to hold onto so the night can be even more special. as if you think I don’t know what is going on.