Helping myself
But what is it all for?
I climb slowly out of the hole
I didn't realize I had been digging for myself
Though I know as my vision crosses the rim
There will be nothing but a foggy open field.
Damp in the clouded light,
Unable to tell evening from night
Sunlight or moonlight, it makes no difference
I have no flashlight anyway
And no one is here from whom I could ask for one.

It is good to want for yourself
But what is the good in wanting,
If you are wanting alone?

I guess the hope is in the waiting
For a light across the field
Maybe, there is only the theory
You could only chance finding another
If you have both climbed out to the surface.