The well is dry, but you may dig deep.
Scraping the sides with the carefully,
Oh so carefully,
Yes, carefully,
Dropped bucket of air.

Blow, wind, blow.
But do not sway
The vessel which would carry,
A precious gift.

The well is dry, so you must dig deep.
Creak goes the crank, creak, creak.
Down it goes, and down, down, down.
Thunk.  It found a precarious ledge.

Fall again, drift, slide, and fall.
Scrape as it must.
Harder.
Harder.
HARDER.
It must find the precious gift of life.

The well is dry, but there may be yet
A few drops.
Drip.
Drop.
Drip.
The echo will tell all.

Take the drip.
The well is deep.
There is another channel.
Never before seen.
And it must be tapped.

Hard to find.
Finding is joy.
And life.
To those who thirst.