Recycled Night

The moon shrinks, the moon grows,
The city dies and the young girl knows;
Amidst the wood wild with life
The girl wept, a heart blackened and strife.
And the moon shrinks, the moon grows.

The city shrouded with darkness on the roofs and walls.
But the girl, the girl falls.
The bright yellow ball, a gleam of light
Attempts comfort but amplifies the depressing night.
And the moon shrinks, the moon grows.

Midnight arrives; the bells toll with life
Weak and ill the girl reaches for a knife.
The sun rises, the arrival of dawn,
But the young girls breath has long been gone.
And the moon shrinks, the moon grows.