Why do I write of pain and sorrow?
When happiness rolls into my hours,
Why do I write of regret?
When the sun is smiling down,
Why are all my words a frown?
Why do I sit alone and fret?
When I watch the hands of the clock fly,
Why do I sit in the dark and cry?
Because this life is passing me by.
My dreams are no more than dreams,
My hopes unraveling at the seams.
And I have never known a lover’s caress,
Never laid in his arms and thought I’d been blessed.
So I sit alone in the dark and wish for the best.
When happiness rolls into my hours,
Why do I write of regret?
When the sun is smiling down,
Why are all my words a frown?
Why do I sit alone and fret?
When I watch the hands of the clock fly,
Why do I sit in the dark and cry?
Because this life is passing me by.
My dreams are no more than dreams,
My hopes unraveling at the seams.
And I have never known a lover’s caress,
Never laid in his arms and thought I’d been blessed.
So I sit alone in the dark and wish for the best.

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