no older vision

we won't be well-rewarded by fair trade
whoever promises is just a knave
no one succeeds without some decent aid

the deepest cut comes from the thinnest blade
to face such weapons requires being brave
we won't be well-rewarded by fair trade

we hide from warmth within the spreading shade
not knowing what we need or what we crave
no one succeeds without some decent aid

we are too far now from the bee-loud glade
too little of bright youth could any save
we won't be well[-rewarded by fair trade

the whole thing's just another masquerade
we see the master swift turn into slave
no one succeeds without some decent aid

the day grows bright but always has to fade
we start out merry but too soon turn grave
we won't be well-rewarded by fair trade
no one succeeds without some decent aid