In vain, in vain, in vain,
I cry, is a worry here,
But a tear to the eye,
In vain, in vain, in vain,
You said, is a worry here,
But a pain in the head,
For my blessing are kept,
In a box up there,
No one will rob them,
They will not tear,

You bestow at the proper time,
It’s not my place to beg and whine,
Or think that I must push on through,
Without what I need, and not with you,

In vain, in vain, in vain,
You said, is a worry here,
But a blessing bled,
Not for not was my blood shed.