Asleep was the fiery, angry sun.
Came whispering words to a down-hearted son.
From a father’s heart, calm and sad.
“Look son, things are quite hard.
It’s life, this is no game of card.
Be wise and courageous within.
Believe your creator, he makes fat the thin.”
Striking my heart like lightening.
It blazes the fire of hope to carry on.
Now here, dreaming dreams; dreamers hopes on.