“A Voice in the Quiet”

“A Voice in the Quiet”

An Original Song by Tim McGuinness, Ph.D.

Music & Lyrics Copyright © 2026 – All Rights Reserved Worldwide

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LYRICS

The evening folds its coat of blue,
The window holds a fading view.
Across the street, the curtains glow;
There’s laughter somewhere I don’t know.
I set one plate, I pour one cup,
And turn the kitchen music up.
The empty chair, the cooling tea,
The things that keep their eyes on me.

I miss a voice that knows my name,
A little warmth, a steady flame.
A hand that reaches through the night
To say, “Come sit here in the light.”

When I feel lonely, I talk to myself
Like a letter left waiting on somebody’s shelf.
I say, “You are here, and your heart’s beating still;
There is room for your sorrow, a seat it can fill.”
Let the tears find the words that my lips cannot say;
Let the night take its time turning slowly to day.
I am more than the silence, more than this ache;
I am someone worth knowing when morning awakes.

I hear the neighbors on the stair;
I almost call, then leave it there.
I write a message, let it lie,
And watch a plane divide the sky.
I tell myself they’re busy now;
They’d hear the hurt in me somehow.
But every word I leave unsent
Becomes another hour misspent.

I need no perfect thing to say;
“Are you free?” can find a way.
A little bridge of words will do;
Perhaps they need somebody too.

When I feel lonely, I talk to myself
Like a letter left waiting on somebody’s shelf.
I say, “You are here, and your heart’s beating still;
There is room for your sorrow, a seat it can fill.”
Let the tears find the words that my lips cannot say;
Let the night take its time turning slowly to day.
I am more than the silence, more than this ache;
I am someone worth knowing when morning awakes.

The moon keeps watch above the town;
I put my guarded answers down.
I send the words, “It’s been a while.”
The little screen returns a smile.
We speak of rain, of bread, of spring,
Then slowly of the harder thing.
No grand reply, no perfect art,
Just room enough to show my heart.

Some nights the chair stays empty still;
The rain runs silver down the sill.
I let myself admit the pain,
Then call a friend and try again.
I learn the names at places near;
I find a reason to appear.
A greeting grows, a friendship starts,
In little rooms with open hearts.

When I feel lonely, I talk to myself,
Then I take down the letter that waits on the shelf.
I say, “There is someone I’m longing to know;
I can knock on a door, I can ask, I can go.”
Let my voice cross the distance, uncertain but clear;
Let somebody know that I’m glad they are here.
I am more than the silence, more than this ache;
I have love left to give and connections to make.

The evening folds its coat of blue;
I set a second cup for you.
And if tonight there’s only me,
I’ll sit with kindness, drink my tea.

I was told
This is the way.

Why?

“A Voice in the Quiet” explores loneliness through the ordinary details of an evening alone and the longing to be known by another person. Compassionate self-talk gives the speaker room to acknowledge sorrow without treating isolation as a measure of personal worth. The movement toward connection begins with modest actions: sending a message, admitting that things are difficult, calling a friend, and becoming familiar with people nearby. Friendship develops through these repeated openings, while some evenings remain solitary. The second cup represents welcome and possibility, and the willingness to drink tea alone with kindness shows growing self-acceptance. The song brings together two needs: learning to offer oneself companionship and continuing to reach for meaningful relationships with others.