At night I sit and brood about,
The things that keep me in doubt,
For those that care about my woes,
Read on and hear about my foes,
To those who help me through this time,
I take this moment to stop and whine,
To say a silent thanks to thee,
To those who care about little old me,
What would I do with my�own life?
If you weren't there to get me through this strife,
And so without much ado,
I pay my thanks from me to you.