Pitter patter goes the rain.
Pitter patter goes my steps.
Its icy touch washes away the pain,
As I walk alone, with nothing left.
Cracks of laughter fills my eardrums,
The taste of wine, the height of glee.
Bolts of chuckles and low hums,
Little songs of sorrows free.
When, how and why did it all go wrong?
When, how and why was I wrapped in chains?
These chains of loneliness, thick and long.
These chains of hollowness, my own tongue⎯ its stain.
Pitter patter goes the rain.
Pitter patter goes the leaves.
In the grave lies a life of love and gain,
Now I walk alone, what once was, now bereaved.