This next song is 4'oclock by Emilie Autumn. I changed the lyrics a little in one line to make it fit better. I hope someone enjoys these.

The Master causally played with strands of Lucy's blonde hair. She was so beautiful, so childlike and The Master had always liked having someone to look after. Why he'd even looked after The Doctor once. Perish the thought! Lucy was much better, though right now he could confess to felling a little annoyed that she was asleep and he wasn't. The Master never could get to sleep and he hated it.

4 o'Clock
4 o'Clock
Never let me sleep
I close my eyes and pray
For the garish light of day
Like a frightened child I run
From the sleep that never comes
.

But he did love Lucy. He wondered if she knew that. He hoped she did. There was dried blood at the corner of her mouth. He vaguely remembered doing that. He regretted that now, though it had made her mouth taste nice when he had kissed her.

What time was it? Four in the morning. Oh, this was agony and every night it was the same and Lucy never knew. He could hear the drums in his head. Sometimes, he wondered if he could tear the sound out of his head. He's tried once. Lucy had been horrified at the blood along his hairline the next morning. He hadn't tried that again, but he hadn't explained either.

Damn it, how could it still be only four o'clock?

4 o'Clock
4 o'Clock
Out of bed I creep
To climb this tower of shame
But the hour's still the same
Only madness knows my name
At 4 o'Clock
.

He lost his temper a lot, it was true and he wasn't going to deny that to himself, but it wasn't his fault. It was the drums; the drums took away his precious sleep, played endless beats in his head and ran loops with his mind. He often wondered why they had chosen him. He had been a child, just a child but it hadn't mattered to the leaders of Gallifrey; that hadn't mattered one bit. He was only glad that Lucy couldn't hear them, though she tapped out the beat often enough.

If it wasn't for Lucy, he didn't know if he would have bothered with all of this. He would have given up, let The Doctor win because death would have been easier, and then maybe the drums would have stopped. What had been the point to looking in the vortex, what had they achieved?

Why can we never go back to bed?
Whose is the voice ringing in my head?
Where is the sense in these desperate dreams?
Why should I wake when I'm half past dead?

The worst thing was that he would have been happy with Lucy, if not for the infernal drums. If he had never had to look, they could have had a life together. He shuddered, suddenly remembering that not only had her slapped her yesterday, he had also given her a black eye, punching her because she'd interrupted him when he'd been thinking about Martha Jones. It wasn't fair. Why had they chosen him?

4 o'Clock
4 o'Clock
Out of bed I creep
To climb this tower of shame
But the hour's still the same
Only slumber never came
Only madness knows my name
At 4 o'Clock.

He'd have to make things up to his Lucy tomorrow. He didn't know what he would do without her, and yet a part of him knew that the drums would always keep them apart. They could never really be together because the drums possessed him and they would never let him go.

Sure as the clock keeps its steady chime
Weak as I walk to its steady rhyme
Ticking away from the ones we love.

So much sadness, so little time.

He hoped that Lucy would know that he wanted her to stay with him; he needed her, needed her so much, and surely she needed someone to worship. He stroked her sleeping face, and tried to ignore the drum beats.

He was so tired. He hadn't slept properly for hundreds of years. That scared him a little.

Why can we never go back,

Never go back

Never go back

To bed.?