My Blood Will Call Out to You From the Ground

There I go to my wishing well
Praying for wisdom, making use of myself
There I go to my wishing well
Looking for true love watching misery make my bed
There I go throwing stones again
There will be no more mystery about the scars that I wear
There I go to my wishing well
A place with no heartache, where else shall I dwell?
There she goes
There I go to my wishing well
Yelling «fathr, forgive me!», but seeing silenc itself
There I go down my wishing well
Tell the world that I am sorry, I will think of them in spells
There I go to my wishing well
Sorrow just seething through the ringing of the bells
There’s one for me
Yes, there’s one for you
There will be no more sorrow
How mighty of us to choose?