We walked the narrow path,
Beneath the smoking skies.
Sometimes you can barely tell the difference
Between darkness and light.
Do you have faith
In what we believe?
The truest test is when we cannot,
When we cannot see.
I hear pounding feet in the,
In the streets below, and the,
And the women crying and the,
And the children know that there,
That there's something wrong,
And it's hard to believe that love will prevail.

Oh...