The long and the short of it
Dwindle to a speck of it
In its own good, drawling time.
The clouds lift enough to show
The helpless soul on his shield
The snow come to the mountains,
Reminding him of his home.
We are all so far away,
All so helpless, determined
To prove we have a real choice,
Ready to make one true faith
Out of our capacity
To choose what we cannot choose,
That home will never be home.