I found myself in trouble and went looking for my Lord;my life was an open wound that wouldn’t heal.When friends said, “Everything will turn out all right,”I didn’t believe a word they said.I remember God—and shake my head.I bow my head—then wring my hands.I’m awake all night—not a wink of sleep;I can’t even say what’s bothering me.I go over the days one by one,I ponder the years gone by.I strum my lute all through the night,wondering how to get my life together.