I know you’re out there in the dark night,
watching me, drinking up my blood and tears.
I know you’re out there, in the cold black,
dreaming me, sleeping silent all these years.
I am the brilliance of the constellations
spilling all their ancient light down on me,
and you revel in the shadow I cast.
What of me there is I can’t offer you;
how can I give you what you already own?
The Old Jones 
Don’t care what you say, this has to be about you… brilliance of the constellations, that’s how I see you somehow. But you know the shadows are more satisfying than the light, anyway. They have to be.
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