There are so many things
You can put in a song
You can make it 'bout a truck driver
You can make it an hour long
I have so little time
And so much to say
If you seek clarification
Then I can put it another way

Friend, won't you please fill my hole
It's located at the bottom of my soul
And it's a felon to be tellin', I know

No matter how many widgets, and digits, and stuff
You gather, you fossick, it can never be enough
That hollow, howlin' wind blows plaintive across your plain
Honey, I'm moved to say it again

Darlin', won't you please fill my hole
It's located at the bottom of my soul
And it's a felon to be tellin', I know

Fill my hole, yeah

Do you hear where I'm comin' from?
It's a spiritual thing
Are 'ya hearin' me people?