Cold Under Blankets

I feel empty this night
3am creeps by
Music has yet to fill
The hole in my heart
Perhaps the size of Idaho
Why though? It makes no sense
No difference, what is wrong?
I have to answer the sphinx’s question
I have no answer to the sphinx’s question
Oedipal riddle, desperate grasp
At rooted straws
Where does this emptiness come from?
What is my answer?
So that I may sleep tonight 
Before the clock calls out 4am to join me