The skies are grey,
My mind, now blank.
I cannot go another day,
Staring into this empty plank.

It shouldn't be dull and grey,
Cause it should be a colourful array!
For me to be proud of,
But now, I'd rather give it a shove.

But what happens when that fire inside you dies?
What happens then?
Do you have to keep telling them lies
And asking yourselves when?

Or maybe the fire hasn't died,
Dimmed is all. I thought it lied.
For a passion like this, don't disappear,
Maybe it's hiding itself under the pier.

But the fire inside you does die.
One day,
Someday.
And I'm afraid that day is near.