I think that even in a world
Where nobody cared
There'd still be someone left
They'd be the one who dared
To think of what was wrong
With what we did alone
But even then, I think
That I just might be scared.

Of things that we might lose
Of things I held so close
Becoming but a single breath
in a mix of prose.

I know that in a world
Where ideas were drawn a blank
We'd find our way through darkness
And begin to thank
The placement of some kind of happiness
That we once pursued
Ideas that we already knew
(Or hoped!)
Would find some kind of renew.

I think we're stuck in the cold
but someday it will grow old
And we'll learn to have happiness on a tighter hold.