Each morning before the sun
Jeremiah would get up
wash his face and hands and comb his hair
a cup of coffee by himself
his wife and kids asleep
then he'd make his way out the front door
and down the stairs

He had an old tool shed
out behind the house
with an old rusted shovel
with splintered grip
He'd walk down that broad path
that ran beside the road
and start digging holes beside the fence

He never planted anything
He never filled them up
he'd just dig and dig
and never would explain
along about one, Jeremiah would take his lunch
then not return home again
'til the closing of the day

The town folk used to talk
and Jeremiah's wife would plead
Jeremiah stop this useless work
I spend all my days
down at the factory
so our children can have the things they need

The years went on by
and Jeremiah he grew old
and his kids all moved away
His wife left him too
when the last one had gone
and his holes just got deeper by the day

Rabbits have their holes
and foxes their dens
but the Son of God had no place to hide
One day Jeremiah
crawled down in the deepest hole
He lay his shovel down beside him and he died.