I come from a place where I wake to the steaming sun and I sleep in heavy darkness
I want to go to the place where I sleep under the lights and wake to grey clouds
I live in a home where the lark-bird sings much too early in the morning
I wish I could set up home where the engines sing, where the factories pollute the noise
Blocking my ears, my thoughts, my tears
Dark and grey, the would be  
maybe then, they would be dark enough
To see.