Two in the morning, words lose their meaning.
Three in the morning, they are but raw sounds.
Four in the morning, one should be dreaming,
Five in the morning, when one comes unwound.
The hours of darkness let one’s mind wander.
Not always to the most cheerful of sights.
It’s in those bleak times one starts to ponder
If one wants to fight through one more dark night.
You saddle your courage, get on the horse,
Ride through the terrors and darkness of heart.
Dug in, you confront your dread with sheer force.
You harness your strength, let plan your fresh start.
Dawns always rise, our souls victorious,
In sunshine fresh, conscience is glorious.
