When I ran to youExpecting open arms and warm teaI got sour rind and sopWhen I ambled toward youBridging bramble toward the seaI stuck only in the stubbleThe thistle by the barnRallies its barbs like swordsFrom arid land not wicked, but dryWhen I wanted lift, I got stoneWhen I wanted rest, I got dinWhen I wanted cheer, I got capWhen I wanted shade, I got castWhen I wanted drink, I got dustWhen I wanted warmth, I got sootWhen I wanted food, I got swillWhen I wanted wool, I got thorns
