The days are somber in this realm,
and hope disappears like dust;
Arranging lives and loves profound,
seems fraught with waning trust.

How do we keep our heads above,
the clouds we seek to chase ?
And when our minds turn melancholy,
how do we ever win the race ?

Facing chances to be inspired,
running from the stormy past;
A smoky sky looks down upon,
a world which cannot last.

Meek and mild with troubled hearts,
we lie on the sands of time;
And sadness brings a lonely call,
for words to save mankind.