In thoughts lowly ditch
I cower and moan.
As hope glides on by
I tremble and groan.
A pocket of Hope
Holds me awhile
Then bursts it’s own bub-
Ble to continue my Trial.
In thoughts lowly ditch
I cower and moan.
As hope glides on by
I tremble and groan.
A pocket of Hope
Holds me awhile
Then bursts it’s own bub-
Ble to continue my Trial.