Underneath Such A Distant Sky

Often enough the times are troubled enough

and the hours left all too rare to spare

for thoughts on things broken and lost

give me at the ending of the day a bit of rest

not tales spun of what has been long since forgot

for tired am I and worries I have enough

and soon tomorrow has me waking up

Some say that's the gist of it

the way things worked out

how the hand was dealt

 either play or lay it down

it's no use complaining when it's always before dawn

when the bell begins to toll for another day begun

even if you somehow gotten caught between the moment

and the light

So if you must, sing your song for the unsung

send your empty envelopes 

just keep voices soft and try not to crowd these busy streets 

with your slowly fading out

Write not on the walls of your fragile hold

but instead be quiet in regard

of a world that has enough space for almost everyone

just not so much for the drifting kind

enough forgiveness for most mistakes to be undone

it's only that there's a line to wait inside

A certain set of rules and reasons as to why

help and need, polite smiles and letters sent out

adress unknown, recipient not found

well, at least that will save on stamps,

as no one ever checks the mail getting sent 

to the people living between the moment

and the light