Read Time:41 Second
For every man who will last
Theres nothing he cant get past
No obstacle he cannot erase
For every king theres a crown
And every time I look around
I am the kin of infinite space
For every field theres a mole
With the soil that he stole
And the sightlessness that lets him go free
For every drought theres a rain
And when my earths in pain
I watch it boil o tearfully
Theres a time to sing these things
And a time to have them sung
A time to bring the tune
And a time to have it brung
Theres a lap for resting head
Theres the only nesting bed
Theres the souls to cry among
For the things that dont get sung
And a hand to hold your throat
To stifle that crying choke