The early Chilly morning Breeze
Caress my chics never to cease...

What is cruel in the eyes of men
May we sound at times insane...

Daily we strive for life and liberty
Pursuing happiness, we die in poverty...

Years, months and days have gone by
Never have I seen it fall in a storm...

With the early dew he stands on the edge
He Stood on the sloppy sky...

We count one up to five
Then we say the ultimate of life...

When the wells run dry
And you seem not to try...