Wishing for wells or something to hold water,
cracks without seeping or ooze.
Tainted delights, faucets constant flowing -
win after win I still lose.
Cisterns I've dug lately with blood sweat and tears,
I've worked my hands down to the bone,
in hopes of my searching to finally be quenched.
Instead I have nothing to show.
Like a fountain surrounded by a desert so wicked
And oh when I found this fountain to be endless
You would that I drink.
You would that I drink.
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