Facing the sun, waiting for these things [bad word] 
We smiling high watching the good things passing by 
Pretend we feeling fine, but inside we're crying sometimes 
It ain't what it seems, nothing but a dream

And the faces get void and the light's getting thin 
And the roads [bad word] uneven, so we don't know where we've been 
And those who doubt us, will soon believe 
We are never supposed to win or even to achieve