When the sky is pale
And things seem gray
You try to smile
and think of what to obey.
If there’s no sun
shining above our heads,
Let’s find other shining threads.

When we’re drinking our fifth
cup of coffee and waiting,
Staying awake even though
our lids are falling,
You tell me of an artist,
A real painter or a storyteller.

When surroundings are boring
And your eyes are snoring
We are going to find a bullet,
those hidden sparks,
We will deny the essence
of our weakened guns.