Nothing is as lonesome as the night.

The stars are burning dim,
As the whippoorwill calls,
From the shadowy twilight's gloom.

A tear streaks my face,
As his call tears at my heart.
And the weight of the moonlight presses,
Me on down onto the earth.

I cry out for help,
With a voice that makes no sound.

The weight of the world,
Keeps me pressed to the ground.

The crickets chirp, and the tree frogs sing.
And above it all,
I hear ,
The whippoorwills,
Plaintive call.