In the corner sits a creaking chair,
Where I spill my soul like whiskey in the air,
With worn hands gripping dreams that slipped away,
In this smoky haze, I’m lost, I can’t stay.
My hollow voice whispers through the night,
Echoes of laughter that fade out of sight,
Silent tears fall like drops of rain,
While the jukebox plays that old, lonesome refrain.
The night drags on, as shadows creep,
In the arms of the darkness, I sink down deep,
Every toast brings a memory I can't face,
In this crowded room, I still feel out of place.
The bartender nods, sees my weary eyes,
He’s heard the stories, knows the goodbyes,
And I keep on pouring out my heart and soul,
In this smoky bar, where the blues take their toll.
So light another cigarette, let the ashes fall,
As the bartender pours, I’ve answered the call,
With every sip, I drown the pain I wear,
In this hollow voice, love’s ghost lingers there.
When the dawn breaks softly and I rise from despair,
I'll leave this creaking chair, no longer ensnared,
Though the wounds may linger, and the scars remain,
I’ll carry the comfort of these shadows and pain.
Blues
Hollow voice, creaking chair, worn hands, smoky bar, silent tears
Blues
Hollow voice, creaking chair, worn hands, smoky bar, silent tears