She sits in the window, high above the road
Her expression is blank, a well hidden code,
In the dark, she stares out onto the snow.
And the emotions she hides are so far below.

The midnight is filled with a cover quite long
And hours of the night are passed by a dong
Desire she feels to have shadow in her grasp.
And by the tick of the clock, she tries to clasp

But the darkness lacks substance to her dismay
And through her yearning, she begins to stray.
She seeks to touch, but finds the action in vain.
And time falls away as the glass loses grain

But that girl, in truth, is not something real
She is simply a vision that one cannot feel
It is reality she seeks, an escape from the deep
She is the shadow. Substance, she cannot keep