Why so down?



Are you down? Are you out?
Think the world's too much to bear?
Have you ever looked around
And seen what's really here?
We live upon a ball of rock
That spins through deadly, endless night
We don't fall off, though we fall down
Our planet saves our lives

Looking off our ball of rock
A cosmic stone's throw far away
We see a giant, vicious bomb
Is letting out its deadly rays
Our ball of rock steps in again
With a shield of empty space
A few conteptous beams break through
And shine their light upon our face

Some tiny beams that make it through
Strike down into brief, fragile things
Which grow and feed all other life
From mortal men to mighty wings
The fragile creatures spread their branches
And form an endless canopy
Of vibrant, pure and wondrous life.
We wander through, unthinkingly

The tiny beams that strike them not
Beat down upon an endless sea
And raise out of it every day
More life than we will ever see
The life falls down upon our rock
The life is clean and purified
Part of a system more complex
Than any one man has designed

Every day, a million of us
Go to meet our final rest
Yet with every coming dawn
The bomb sheds life on more of us
How can we tell of our sadness
When we're greater every day
How can we speak of drops of water?
The river flows the other way

How petty do our problems seem
Compared to those our planet faces
How ungrateful must we seem
To bicker of our lucky places
We live upon a ball of rock
Oasis in a cold black desert
Yet we complain of our conditions
As if the desert's so much better



(only for 2nd stanza onwards)

The light that makes it through feeds plants that feed the world, covering it with an endless canopy of pure, green life through which we wander unthinkingly. The same rays of nothing hit an endless sea and raise more water every day than any thing we've ever made can ever hope to achieve, purifying it totally and feeding a complex, endless cycle that keeps us up and running, complaining of the heat and rain. Every day, a million people go to meet their final rest, yet every coming dawn the bomb sheds life upon still more of us. How petty do our problems seems compared with those a planet faces, how ungrateful must we seem to bicker of our lucky places in an oasis of life and love surrounded by an endless nothing where no soul could survive.