Are you going to bring me doom,
tales of havoc coming soon,
of draining seas and shattered moon,
of future bleak with pressing gloom?
Or are you going to bring me light
that sweeps all darkness from my sight,
forecast a future only bright
with hope, when goodness holds all might?
Or are you going to bring me dawn,
or offer dusk with shadows long,
or cloudy days that go along
with blue sky breaks and sunshine strong?
Heaven sent and Hades bound,
fate keeps throwing us around.
Lightened up and weighted down,
in bliss we bask, in dread we drown.
Yet always comes another day,
better times or worse some way.
Are not content we who can say
for nothing more or less we pray?