It's six in the morning, the sun's still asleep Darkness outside, no lights in the street Not even barking from the dogs I hear I lie in bed, a man wrecked by fear Empty are my nights and days Depressing vibes fill all my ways I wander through my hollow home And stumble on the junk I own It's past twelve now, maybe just a bit The fridge is empty, the fog still sits I take my first sip of water today A bluesy tune on my radio plays Empty are my nights and days Depressing vibes fill all my ways I wander through my hollow home And stumble on the junk I own It's eight in the evening as I step outside To the bar I walk with a weary stride Since yesterday rain has filled the streets I drink my whiskey, my mood in defeat Empty are my nights and days Depressing vibes fill all my ways I wander through my hollow home And stumble on the junk I own
