In the middle of my mourning Sits joy like ahappy...
Crickets rhythmically sing Their mournful melodies A monotone by request...
I'm like Thomas doubting fingers running the scars Your wrists...
drifting away from you spinning down to the pinpoint drop...
questions flew and words were hurled into the air and...
Take my sorrow and my sin I will run into...
My heart is as dark as the soil sodden with...
There is freedom within, there is freedom without Try to...
I only want what's mine That's what i came to...
this is my forty fifth depressing tune they're looking for...