a sign of my sincerity,
I can't pretend the things I see
are nothing more than dreams to me.
If I could only cast a shade
on what's become wars' esplanade,
perhaps there might be one decade
in which there's truth in what I've said.
If we could only always share
the things that mother life prepares,
then in our moments of despair
such peace could be the morning air.
If I believed this all in vain
with no more hope than endless pain,
my first reaction to refrain,
from any part of life again.
But I believe my tears to be
a sign of my sincerity,
I can't pretend the things I see
are anymore just dreams to me.