Looking out this evening, waiting for myselfI can't tell what's missing and what's mineI only know I'm leaving a little easy farewellIt's hard to tell what else I'll leave behindBut it seems to me, at a time like thisOnly silence can say what is realCrying, don't cry, don't cryDon't even come close to the way that I feelSome dreams are not for sleepingSome nights are not for restSome stories are better left insideI'll keep on believing that it's all for the bestLet the beckoning highway provideBut it seems to me, at a time like thisOnly silence can say what is realCrying, don't even come closeTo the way that I feelCrying, don't even come closeTo the way that I feelCrying, don't even come close