It forgives me.
It seems, it doesn't care about all passed minutes and hours.

No. Doesn't care. 
All nights are going like a river...or slowly like the lava of the volcano...

So, without haste...
It doesn't care if you wake up, it doesn't care if you sleep.
Pointers on the clock go like lazy. No clear lights of the cars come in throw some windows, that are closed no well.

And I stay there, with opened eyes. 'Cause Morpheus doesn't want hold my hands.