(These) Desperate Hours Burt Bacharach

The time is midnight, the place is crowded
The girl is missing, and mister, that's doom
That's why night after night
I keep trying to fight
Off the gloom
Desperate hours

The rain is fallin', the street's deserted
The blues are draggin' me back to my room
And I climb every stair
With a heart that's as bare
As a tomb
Desperate hours

Oh Lord help me
Where is she?
Might she set me free when I don't want to be?
Can't she see
I need her so desperately?
Desperately

The sky might clear up, the day might cheer up
But oh, there'll be darkness at noon
For as long as she's gone
I'll go on
A world out of tune
Every day
Every way
Evermore
Twenty-four
Desperate hours
Desperate hours
Desperate hours