The Hole I Dig
It happens again and again I heard the beauty you made And now I have to speak louder Making my voice heard over yours
It happens again and again I heard the beauty you made And now I have to speak louder Making my voice heard over yours
Flowers were planted here Beautiful and delicate I needed help to tend them I never learned to do it alone
I used to think there was something wrong with me I couldn't connect, couldn't understand What are they talking about?