The Midnight Rogue

dressed in his leather
ready to explode
there’s no play in his heart
he’s not for show…

a friend to the night
and all its dark corners
he takes no prisoners
and gives no warnings

he’s seen many sunsets
in the morning of his life
he’s eyed weary
at both ends of a knife
and for the midnight rogue
there aren’t any wrongs to make right

he doesn’t bend to
the truth of what is real
he only goes by
the way that he feels…

undressed to the weather
his friend and foe
he’s wired up inside
ready to blow
and for the midnight rogue
there is no other way to go