The words of the old Frank Sinatra song can stir something deep and dormant. The tunes of Ol' Blue Eyes can transports us to other places. When he weaves his magic on 'In The Wee Small Hours Of The Morning' we know some thoughts are unmasked only in darkest night.
In the quiet of their own night-time solitude, Leo Varadkar and Micheál Martin are alone, with their inner world. Their days have been frenetic. Championing their cause; fire-fighting the unexpected. But a moment of truth is at hand. The divide between the lustre of victory and the dull ache of rejection remains wafer thin.
All the while there lurks the great unanswerable. In a moment of high desperation, will either of the two main party leaders break bread with Mary Lou McDonald?
In the shrouded darkness - bonded with their very deepest thoughts - are they thinking the unthinkable?
Depending on the turn of the dice, personal political survival may be on the line. For Martin, this election is his last chance to sample the holy grail. He knows that if he fails to become Taoiseach, his party cannot escape the clutches of the opposition benches. If that happens he will resign as party leader, or be removed in some unseemly heave.
For Varadkar, life-changing moments are also at hand. He will find it torturous if forced to step down as Taoiseach - a role he has so relished. He obviously aches for a chance to lead the country for another few years. If Fine Gael is hit by a thunderbolt from unhappy voters, the party will be a fulcrum of discontent and disappointment in the new Dáil. The current Taoiseach will face new and unknown survival challenges.
Desperation may become the order of the day; the search for support to make up a Dáil majority frenetic. And so the singular question of this entire election campaign remains.
If they are staring into the abyss, will Varadkar or Martin do a deal with Sinn Féin - if it would make them Taoiseach?
Perhaps there was an inevitability in this election campaign all along. With the benefit of rear view mirror certainty, we can now see nothing could have saved Fine Gael from being on the back foot. Housing and health apart, its biggest problem is that it simply is the party which has been in power.
As such it is the pivot for multi-layered dissatisfaction and discontent. The instinct of voters to at least flirt with change is all-powerful.
Sinn Féin arrived with offerings aplenty. Solutions to our biggest problems are there for the taking. The message is that resolving the country's keynote challenges are obvious and pain free.
All it will take is a certain insight and will. It was a message that chilled with the times. Such was its resonance that Fianna Fáil is in danger of being eclipsed as the primary party of opposition when a government is in trouble.
And then, suddenly, Sinn Féin's tangled roots with Northern Ireland violence were put into sharp focus. It's as if much had been forgotten or ignored; the volubility of its leader and front-benchers assured us it has destiny on its side. However, McDonald visibly faltered as she scrambled to defend one of her party's leading lights north of the Border.
Many questions still remain over one of the blood-soaked acts of savagery that torment Northern Ireland's unresolved legacy. Why was so much cruelty meted out to Paul Quinn in that Border hideaway? It's a story of cudgels and iron bars, broken bones and unspeakable hatred.
The apology that was never made - and then proffered this week - is a thread that links Sinn Féin through the decades. We are reminded that despite its much commented upon monolithic structure, the party has in a sense two wings. One is 'up there' and the other 'down here'.
Neither Leo Varadkar nor Micheál Martin can have one without the other. That's something to challenge their deepest selves. Especially in the 'wee small hours of the morning'.