The Well
Steve Hartlett
How'd the well make you and take you down?
Grab a seed and taste its sound
Around the well, make you; you take it down
How the well is painted round
Now you hold to own into my reel it back to mold it right
When you told me only to my wheel inside; you've spun me right
Found you all I could; I couldn't care
Now you're all tame and brown
Feed you all I can; you love the cans
I can see pain in there
How'd you know you roam my wheel to ride beside my own two tries?
Then you sew my arm back when it's wrong to let it grow too far