My words cannot explain this commotion,
That has torn me up from inside,
And any place I go to run,
This hole reveals to where I hide.

Pulling out my dirt and shovel,
And straitening out my stride -
I realize the endeavor is lost,
Her victory has taken its ride.

So I turn to the brown eyed goddess,
Who has torn out my passion and soul,
And I hold back my tears of jealousy -
As I try to fill in this hole.

But the reality is its true emptiness,
In which I was blinded by my fulfillment to see,
And through all this ache and agony,
The holes’ joke is inevitably on me.