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The First Winter

By Raymond Arnold

You’re tribe is traveling north.

And the sun’s falling low in the sky.
Getting dimmer than you’ve ever seen,
And it’s starting to feel like it’s saying goodbye.
And you don’t know why, no idea what it means.

Maybe it’s something you did?
Or maybe it's something we said?
But your children are shivering cold,
and the world around you is dead.

You shout to the sky, but it won’t hear you.
You scream to the wind… it don’t care.
But there’s more than just one of you down here.
So if anyone’s out there...

Well we’re making you listen.
Make you hear us somehow.
And we’ll try an’ understand all your wisdom and plans,
But we got a problem right now.

And we’re not going quietly into the night.
We won’t turn around, lie down or give up the fight
And our old and our young raise their voices as one.
We’re gonna bring back the sun:

Bring the light….