Salt stings in our sores as we’re crossing the fields,
wandering by weeds and dry wells.
Bright shards and dark doorways, where time comes to sleep,
where solitude dwells.
Nothing remains of an age come and gone;
the cradle lies empty and cold.
We are history’s orphans, the scar in the story;
we’re the ending untold.
We have pledged our hearts to the Land of Tomorrow;
we will not give in to despair.
I won’t promise there’ll be no more hardship and sorrow;
all I promise is we will be there.
The stars now are veiled by the ash on the wind
and mem’ry leaks into the night.
We’ve burned all the bridges and barely looked back –
we are traveling light.
Burrowing shelters and borrowing moments
in a world made of edges and grays,
we’re immured in the stupor, the coldness, the hunger –
in our bitter todays.
Yet we slowly drift on to the Land of Tomorrow;
each step, we are paying the fare.
I won’t promise there’ll be no more hardship and sorrow;
all I promise is we will be there.
Wretches, seekers, wordless speakers
over clifftops and colorless sands,
struggling, thieving, ever leaving, holding hands – – –
holding our lives in our hands.
So we’re setting our sails for the Land of Tomorrow;
tomorrow we’ll find it, I swear (somewhere).
We still may meet hatred and hardship and sorrow
but if we stand fast
we will reach out at last
for Tomorrow is vast – – –
and I promise that we will be there.
We will be there.