They say it’s either sadness or euphoria
And the choirs all sing Gloria
I wish instead of coins I
Had pockets full of change

The days of old haunt my mother’s eyes
Hush now baby don’t you cry
You’ll learn to walk
All by yourself self someday

And oh, how the lonely
Smile
How the cowards
Laugh
He wanted to love them all
It’s true
But they all walked by so fast

Settling has a familiar sound
Anger sighs while freedom pounds
Within a battle already won
My God, what have we done?
We shall be overcome
By these merry go round days

A generation without a cause
A remote control without a pause
I’m afraid
I am
Of drowning alone

Tiny dancers had their time
Now our seams burst with giant size
Growing as to make poor Peter sick

But where there are shadows, there must be sun
There must be branches for every gun
Hope, that feathered creature, still flies
Hope, won’t you dry my mother’s eyes?

And oh, how the broken
Rise
How the downtrodden
Dance
He would’ve loved them all
It’s true
If he’d only been given a chance