The grey loneliness of the long winter slowly approaches
What fills the gravely skies- dark clouds colored like Roaches
Our atmosphere shivers- as snow collects on our porches
Only way we stay warm- is remaining inside our fortress
It’s the last days- and change is far from being on the shortlist
It’s the last days- sometimes our missions- we want to abort this
But- we must stand tall like the snow banks- take our dreams and move forth with
Like soldiers in a battlefield, fighting for success, it is ok to have internal war with
Yourself; when you are trying to find discovery- which is planted in your own hands
A new day, new week, new month, a new year- are we closer to the microphone stand ?
A new day, new week, new month, a new year- have I developed myself into my own man?
A new day, new week, new month, a new year- does your stance symbol your own stand?