| Late afternoon when the sun was unraveling
|
| Walking the trail to the end of the gravel
|
| And into the well went a lucky old silver coin
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| Tumbling down, in the dark I was fading
|
| And leaning so far and so quietly waiting
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| A wish that was made at the bottom of the well
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| What happened then is so hard to recall
|
| But as quick as the snap of a whip I was falling
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| And tumbling, following after my silver coin
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| Silence as day turned into the night
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| Could I go back, how I wish that I might
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| I was the boy in the bottom of the well
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| My parents were weeping and frantically searching
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| «He'd always been wandering looking for something
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| One moment he’s here and the next he is surely gone.»
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| «But he didn’t return for a day and night
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| We all knew that something just couldn’t be right
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| A voice on the phone said he’d fallen in the well»
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| I woke from my sleep with the firemen screaming
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| And lowering down all the things I was needing
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| A basket, a bible, a blanket, and a bell
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| And dozens of voices yelling in unison
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| Loudly and echo-y, hazy and boom-y
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| «Hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on»
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| I’d always been dreaming of places and scenes
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| Fireflies only light that you see
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| The rhythm of crickets and toads the only sound
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| And soon I’ll be leaving but now I’m believing
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| In wishes and wells and a way to get back
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| To the sacred place I’ve stumbled on and found
|
| Late afternoon while the sun was unraveling
|
| Walking the trail to the end of the gravel
|
| And into the well went a lucky old silver coin
|
| Tumbling down, in the dark I was fading
|
| Leaning so far and so quietly waiting
|
| A wish that was made at the bottom of the well |