No scorching sun could kill
There's water for the rosebay
The roses drink their fill
But when you talk about old friends
And the tree you cut to stop the fruit from falling
No telling where the world is going
You wish you were right on your own
Fix the way the winds are blowing
Silence their unforgiving moan
Because this bitter mask you're wearing says
You reap what you have sown
And since you can't help raging trying hard