Rose left it.

Now it's quiet, so I guess they left the park.

This wooden bench is getting harder by the hour.

The sun is going down.

It's getting darker.

I realize I'm cold.

The rain begins to pour as I watch the windows on the second floor.

The nights are on, it's time to go It's time at last to let him know

I think maybe it could be fair to say, to

And you wonder why I'm here today.

And so you should, I would.