Pacing back and forth
Only stopping to gaze out a window
Or even the peep hole in my door
I am alone and haven't been found
Passers-by are quite rare
Like astatine in the earth
There are no knocks
Only sounds of the wind whistling in the trees

The only guests I've ever had
Are now long gone
It's my fault really
For alienating the friends I once had
And I keep telling myself
That I'm alive and I can breathe
And I keep telling myself
But it's not what I believe

At least I can be thankful for something but...
The laughter I once shared with others
Ideas of growing old together
It's all coming back
Murmurs from beyond my door can be heard
If only one could see the grin on my face

Maybe now someone can
I can finally be jovial once again
But what I open my door to was nothing
There's nothing and no one to love
If there is an afterlife is this...
No, no, no
There is nothing
It's pointless to think otherwise.

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