All we want is for the world to keep on turning, anything else is too much, or too little. The sun rises. We've been awake for hours, just to keep the morning stars company. The moon rises, and we're there, simply to make sure. Every turn of the great wheel needs watching. The dance is a ritual to keep boredom at bay. The music is just to bide the time. What we're here for, what we're really here for, is the cold and the light. To be there, stood in the middle of empty roads. Stood under dying street lamps. Stood shivering and damp, steaming and wide eyed.