Wishing Well

Have you heard that there’s water

some would die to find,

in a well in some forest

can turn more than to wine?

No, don’t think I believe it,

I’m not sure that I do

but lately I have been grasping

for some thing to pull me through.

where’s the wishing well…

I feel like a traveling salesman

Going door to door

Though I don’t like to say it

Sometimes I’ve wanted more

All my life for a lady,

twenty years as one

Then one morning she wakes up,

“George,” she says “we’re done.”

Where’s the wishing well

All those days I spent spinning

other people’s dreams

All those nights I spent sitting,

wondering what it means

Now I’m left building bridges

if only in my mind

Trying hard to cross chasms,

trying to turn back time

Where’s the wishing well…

And if one morning I find it,

here is where I’d start

Build me a bridge that’s forever

between two heads and hearts

Where’s the wishing well…

Is there a wishing well

Where’s the wishing well

If there’s a wishing well…be my wishing well