>>19705847Alone he sits, in the dark of night,
With trembling hands, and weary sight.
His voice, a whisper, filled with pain,
A haunting melody, like pouring rain.
Through the hours, the tears don't cease,
Each strum of the guitar, a release.
His heartache echoes, in every chord,
A lonely soul, forever ignored.
He only sings when he's sad,
And he's sad all the time, oh so bad.
Through the tears and the endless rue,
His melody, a cry for rescue.
In the silence, his anguish wails,
A broken spirit, lost in trails.
But in his song, there's no reprieve,
Just echoes of sorrow, he can't deceive.
He only sings when he's sad,
And he's sad all the time, oh so bad.
Through the tears and the endless rue,
His melody, a lament so true.
