My foundation is unsteady,1
As if it's shifting sand.2
There is no ledge to cling to,3
Not one helping hand.4
I search and search around me,5
I look, I look in vain.6
All I see is falling sand.7
All I feel is pain.8
For I am calling out for help!9
Crying, crying, but the tears10
Only make the sharp sand stick,11
Ascertain my darkest fears.12
And as my lungs fill with sharp sand,13
I give in to myself and pray,14
And somewhere outside my caving world,15
I can hear God laugh, and say,16
"Are you praying, Miss Amanda?17
Or talking to your God?18
The King of all the Heavens,19
who's walked where angel's trod?20
Blink and rub your eyes,21
Before you trick yourself again22
Before you let your spirit fall apart23
See what 'shifting sand' you're really in."24
