Wash the suffering, oh,

Off my skin.

But let it trickle down deep within

Through my clay

My heart of stone,

To soften me and change my groan

Of pain in me

To heartfelt moan

Of sympathy

For all who suffer, all who hurt.

Trickle down pain until a mighty love

Takes root within my soil, my dirt,

My loam, my soul, and let it grow,

Watered by all I come to know.