Fielding questions and queries and foes. Fending off the restless worry of woe. And nobody knows the good that it shows, from the wreck that is left in its wake. And I give all I have, but it’s not what it takes, and I’m making a mess of it all. Take a guess for a jump, but I fall. Misjudged in the distance, is all. And I crawl from the hole that I dug with a sigh and a shrug and a hole in my heart from the weight of it all.