‎When you're facing the sun, waiting for these things to come

We smilin' high, watching the good things passing by

Pretend to feeling fine, but inside we crying sometimes

It ain't what it seems, nothing but a dream

And the faces get void, and the lies getting thin

And the roads become uneven, so we don't know where we've been

And those who doubt us, will soon believe

We're never supposed to win, or even to achieve