the sun today deceives and we know that
the wind will tear our very souls to shreds
but still it does not enter our hard heads
to remain confined in our warm cosy flat
but we've got work to do and there's no cat
to keep us pinned down snugly in our beds
we must take up again the silver threads
and do our duty without playing the brat
and yet the leaves on every evergreen
blown by the breeze are signals of a hope
we know we're going to find the thing that's ours
and that we will discover that we've been
ascending with firm tread the final slope
there's nothing here that's set beyond our powers
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