My hand is empty, Iím losing my grip.
Itís been too long since your finger-tip
Found its way into the palm of my hand
And I felt so wonderfully, powerfully grand.
My arm is empty, Iím losing my touch.
Gone is the pressure I cherish so much,
Gone is the talk and the walk slow beside,
And here is the feeling of sorrow inside.
My heart is empty, its contents spun out
To the side where they cling with confusion and doubt
And the days are vacant, the nights are long,
And the dirge is not written to carry this song.