. . . . . . . SONGBIRD And where shall we go, then when all of the options are taken, when all of the dreams are used up in the morning of our discontent And where shall we go then when we refuse to hope (for we have to refuse the eternal hope) to condemn ourselves to the hell of no hope. Shall we turn then, turn the turnstill and get on the bus to hell, we shall lie down then in the morning of our discontent and sleep the sleep again which brings the new dreams for I cannot tell you No I will not tell you of the death of hope I will not tell you of the birth of despair though my hands may shrivel and the sores may ravage me, I will stand when I cannot stand I will sing when I have no voice I will laugh when there is only sorrow in front of me and I will cry only tears of joy when all is gone I can only hold this pen and write these words for you I can do no more no words can replace the song of just one songbird in the morning of our discontent So I say to you be that songbird - David Michael Jackson |