Laughter, even joy may fill the day,
But in the end it means nothing.
When he lies down to sleep at night
That emptiness is back again.
An emptiness he thought was gone
Still lingers night after night.
Night after night he wants something more
To ease the hurt and dull the pain.
So he buries his problems in whatever he sees--
Nothing substantial; could be anything.
And night after night when that dull wears away,
He can feel the sting even with closed eyes.
And he’s found he can’t run; there’s nowhere to hide
No matter what he does night after night. Nothing helps the pain, nothing dries his eyes
At the end of each day, he’s still empty inside.
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