To my ears our country songs are stained with pain.

The birth of each sun paints a picture of optimistic love living again.

The late evening dew falls and cold air rest where sun once warmed.

Lonely bed lies cold for sleep view the night’s sky instead.

Will your presence replace this emptiness that I hold?

The thought of it being possible paces anxiously on my mind.

Will pleasure and passion ever kiss the hands of time?

Will my air continue to be saddened by this regret of mine?

Is the wind blowing my beautiful picture further away?

Please! Don’t go, for I am now feeling dismay.