The night sets

   
 softly 
              
With the hush 

             
of falling le-

        
e-eaves, 
                      
Casting   shivering shadows 
              
On the houses 

             
through the tr

            
ees, 
            
And the light 

              
from a street 

 
lamp 
              
Paints a patte

             
rn on my wa-a-

    
all, 
              
  Like the pie

          
ces of a puzzl

e 
           
Or a child's  

            
 uneven scrawl

        
 

            
Up a narrow fl

            
ight of stairs

 
              
In a narrow li

           
ttle ro-o-oom,

  
 
                   
As I lie upon my bed 
              
In the early e

                    
vening gloom. 
            
Impaled on my 

        
wall 
              
My eyes can di

            
mly se-e-e 
              
 The pattern o

      
f my life 
            
And the puzzle

                  
  that is me. 

            
From the momen

            
t of my birth 
              
To the instant

           
 of my de-e-ea

     
th, 
                            
There are Patterns I must follow 
              
Just as I must

              
 breathe each 

              
breath. 
            
Like a rat in 

         
a maze 
              
The path befor

           
e me li-i-ies,

  
 
              
 And the patte

          
rn never alter

s 
           
Until  the rat

            
 dies. 

            
And the patter

              
n still remain

 
s 
              
On the wall wh

             
ere darkness f

         
e-e-ell, 
                           
And it's fitting that it should, 
              
For in darknes

             
ss I must dwel

          
l. 
            
Like the color

              
 of my skin, 
              
Or the day tha

             
t I grow o-o-o

     
-old, 
              
My life is mad

      
e of Patterns 
            
That can scarc

           
ely  be contro

             
lled.