The days go,
The years go,
Do all the problems go?
Or do they just kind of change?

The moneys gone,
The war is on,
We put our faith upon a mortal throne.
Now doesn’t that seem kind of strange?

The young folks stay,
We carve our way,
But the danger lies in having nothing to say.
We’ve got to learn what we can and kill the blind zone,
Maybe do a little more right, and a little less wrong.

The senator knows,
The media man knows,
Does anybody know?
Is there even a chance?

If we don’t care,
We won’t care,
Is there anybody out there?
To speak of ideas and not romance.

But the young folks stay,
We carve our way,
But this is not a stage or play.
It’s the real out there,
Left to us and God I hope there’s a few who care.