Night-night, city.

See-ya, streets replete with amaxophobia’s vessels of vexation.

Au revoir, renegades reconnoitering residences for readying ruckus-rendering.

Toodle-oo, denizens uncouth, who oft exhibit behaviours worse than their scapegoat youth.

Sweet swevens, slumbering skyscrapers stilling sounds save for snores.

Morning-morning, city heard to be as heartsome as it’s warmthful horizon—showing how set do the mares and rise do the cares. ; )