Russell G. Robison


Why is there such a cold inside me
I cannot explain
Why is there such an aching emptiness
I can’t sustain

Why is it that I carry on
When there’s no place to go
Why does it not come to an end
I really do not know

No matter what I do I find
That I’ve not done a thing
Why is it when I lift my voice
There’s nothing left to sing

I’ve always needed answers
For the questions that remain
I’ve always sought the sunshine
While I stand here in the rain

They say that life’s a journey
To a place I’ve never been
Perhaps it is the ending
When the journey does begin