The well's run dry goddammit I'm hanging over the edge You and I, a couple kids with some tins cans and twine I'm hollering down the dusty soup can, "it's getting dark out. Please come inside." If your pain alone could carve the earth and suffering shake and fault lines cleave Then let my heartbreak echo yonder and shake some avalanche clean To send a flood of permafrost cascading down the desert plain and bring you home to me My voice just echos off the rocks "You cthonic fuck! Answer me!" And I'm pumping the faucet And I'm kicking the bucket I know you can hear me, you prick. I'm headfirst in the tunnel, close enough I could spit But you ain't down there, are you? I could scream and cry all night and I'd never hear a steady drip Well I'll finish my crying when the sun arise, golden and yolky over Western skies I'll wipe the dirt and the tears out my eyes and I'll be sitting up straight but with bleeding pride No permafrost came tumbling, no geysers came bubbling, and the well is still run dry But there are some lessons only thirst can teach Like that crying is a waste of water and time And a cowboy oughtta give up the tin cans and twine Get you a dowsing rod and go out to find Where many waters meet And all the stars Collide.
You told me once:
What's meant for me will always be mine.