The walls of the well as you’re falling down into whatever lies below.
Blur from your sight out into the night,
and the moon, in the hole,
in the sky seems so far away, far away.
With your bag full of dreams,
wild-eyed and hailed on,
down on your knees again.
With a handful of sleep and a wandering eye,
you do what you can
but you find you’re digging for icicles
and only finding rain.
You’re digging for icicles and only finding rain...