They woke up to the peek of the mellow sun
Its rays not permitted by the dark ominous skies of the morning drizzle
As if the day have still the quality of night
Where the shy were shameless, their mirth boisterous
Where the bold haggles on the fringes of revolution
Until slowly the scalding heat of passions from the night passed
And evaporated forming mist and fog and dew.
The time held back
As they strip the night's cloak
Traces of stardust freckled their skin
A reminder of the raucous night
It was mixed feelings of hatred and love
Of loathing and yearning;
Of surrender, or of revolution!
The foundations of the day slowly cackles
As the sun breaks through that thick cloud that hangs above their heads.
All the venery and vanity comes alive
As the sun takes the cover that hides the depravation
The loudness of the roosters' crow in the countryside
Were overpowered by the boisterous hum of engines
And a people once again facing the grim task of living
Silenced are the laughters and grins and joyous singing
Repressed are the dancing and carousing
Dissolved again are the reveries for the death of the sun!