Drip, Drop, Drip Drop,
The bucket sloshes,
The old woman kneels
To clean the threshold
of the ones she serves
Drip, Drop, Drip, Drop,
The bucket sloshes
She thinks on her past
And her life and her hopes
her dreams, her last
husband long gone
her friends who’ve been near
her enemies who’ve hurt her,
those she holds dear
Drip, Drop, Drip, Drop
The bucket sloshes,
She washes away
She sets herself to work
and begins to pray
Drip, Drop, Drip, Drop
The bucket sloshes,
As she moves down the hall
Her heart, it labors,
as she scrubs at the floor
the billows of her breath
begin to bore
into her hands
she can work no more
she needs a small break
to labor without work
Drip, Drop, Drip, Drop
She weeps for those who have not drawn near,
For those who are hurting, and lonely, and fear
She will stay forever, in her master’s doorway,
She would rather die, than never have stayed
Drip, Drop, Drip, Drop,
The bucket sloshes,
her made clean heart aches,
is comforted by
a sovereign king’s ways
trials and terrors and toil and sin
good he has planned,
don’t let uncertainty win
Drip, Drop, Drip, Drop,
The bucket sloshes,
She goes back to work
To labor and love,
The last to the first