When the tea becomes cold,
And there’s no hand to hold,
You are now getting old;
No point doing as your’re told.
You realize there’s a hole,
As you search within your soul;
Like a fisherman with no pole,
You keep fighting for your goal.
Some just want to be a mole,
Watch out! They will take a toll.
Those who are looking for coal,
Use the kind-hearted to maul.