There's something special,
About six o'clock in the morning,
When it's still too early to knock,
And the dusty light,
Shines down on the block,
And reflects up and down,
On the hands of the clock,
At six o'clock, six o'clock.
A few hours ago she was standing here,
Just watching the stars in our eyes,
And the lights as the tides disappear.
And I could feel I could say what I want,
That I could nudge her,
And call her my confidant,
And now I'm back alone,
With just my shadow and frown,
At six o'clock, six o'clock.
I went home and found,
That trying to sleep was a laugh,
Just watching my eyelids,
Knowing my brain bits the night,
Not the past,
I got up and got scuffling around,
But somehow,
It just wasn't the same happy town,
And the bells didn't ring,
With the same happy sound,
At six o'clock, six o'clock.
If I go back where we parted,
Could I ever feel like that again?
Guess I'll just have to wait "˜til tomorrow,
But what can I do "˜til then?
Guess I'll go back home,
And just wait until dawn,
Guess I had to learn going back,
Where we were wouldn't help at all.
And I wish my head,
Had been working right,
We'd have gone for coffee,
And talked all night,
But now I'm back alone,
Getting twisted uptight,
At six o'clock, six o'clock.
Now, I'm back alone,
Yes, I'm back alone,
I'm back alone"¦