Sometimes, when I'm alone, I cry, 'cause I am on my own. The tears I cry are bitter and warm. They flow with life, but take no form. I cry because my heart is torn. I find it difficult to carry on. If I had an ear to confide in, I would cry among my treasured friends, but who do you know that stops that long, to help another carry on?

I exist in the depths of solitude pondering my true goal. Trying to find peace of mind and still preserve my soul.

When my heart can beat no more, I hope I die for a principle or a belief that I have lived for.

I dwell with a strangely aching heart In that vanished abode there far apart.

Plunge into the deep without fear, with the gladness of April in your heart.

And every one of them words rang true and glowed like burnin' coal. Pourin' off of every page, like it was written in my soul from me to you.