so empty, so estranged

She lifts her skirt up to her knees,
walks through the garden rows with her bare feet, laughing.
I never learned to count my blessings.
I choose instead to dwell in my disasters.

I walk on down the hill,
through the grass grown tall and brown.
And still it's hard somehow to let go of my pain.
On past the busted back
of that old and rusted Cadillac
that sinks into this field collecting rain.

Will I always feel this way,
so empty, so estranged?

Of these cutthroat busted sunsets,
these cold and damp white mornings, I have grown weary.
If through my cracked and dusty dime-store lips,
I spoke these words out loud would no one hear me?

Lay your blouse across the chair,
let fall the flowers from your hair,
and kiss me with that country mouth so plain.
Outside the rain is tapping on the leaves.
To me it sounds like they're applauding us,
the quiet love we make.

Will I always feel this way,
so empty, so estranged?

Well I looked my demons in the eye,
laid bare my chest, said do your best, destroy me.
See I've been to hell and back so many times,
I must admit you kinda bore me.

There's a lot of things that can kill a man.
There's a lot of ways to die.
Yes and some already dead and walk beside me.
There's a lot of things I don't understand:
why so many people lie.
It's the hurt I hide that fuels the fires inside me.

Will I always feel this way,
so empty, so estranged.

~"Empty" Ray Lamontagne

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I have to say that most of that song applies to how I usually feel. Especially the "I never learned to count my blessings. I choose instead to dwell in my disasters" part. It's just hard to let go of the bad things from the past and so easy to forget all the good.