Time is a cold wind blowing through the leaves 
Of a tired old tree I sit [sing?] beneath 
Where I think about the world and I don't know how 
What will happen to us now? 

And peace is a ladder up to the clouds 
That I'm wishing I could climb but I don't know how 
So would you lend me a hand to the promise land 
Where I made[?] it glory bound

And [bad word] and it goes
Where it's headed, no one knows
And [bad word] and we go
All the saints and the liars, sittin' by the fire
What will happen to us now?

And hatred is a sharp knife held by the blade
It's cutting in your palm 'til you feel no pain
And burning in your eyes with a righteous rage
'Til the ashes blow away

And love is a thing that you can't define
Though you try with all your might through the riddles and rhymes
But it'll fly you like a kite; it'll throw you to the ground
But that's the best thing I have found.

And [bad word] and it goes
Where it's headed no one knows
And [bad word] and we go
Like the winter and the spring
Losing everything just to gain it back again

And oh, how pretty is the middle of June?