Empty cup,
empty glass,
empty bottle and an empty wine cellar.
Empty love,
socialising for one,
eating a lonely dinner,
a lonely dinner,
and silence,
silence has begun,
a quiet contemplation of having no love,
pouring over the reasons why,
why no one has come along,
and as hard as it is you are not the only one,
not the only one eating your dinner in the evening sun,
no, not the only one,
and you have almost forgotten how love feels,
and what it means,
forgotten what love means,
and how your heart it aches for someone,
and oh, how your heart it aches for someone,
and you hope for it again, love,
but will the wonder ever come,
will the wonder ever come?
For you are lonely but you barely shed any tears,
and the chances of love seem to be slim,
but you hope for love, and it is a gamble,
and it fills you with unease,
as you eat your dinner in the evening sun.
