One day the lost voices will be found
Broken and battered on the ground
Using all their might to make a sound

When that day will arrive
We all find it in us to strive
To allow everyone to thrive

The day we allowed their spirits to leave
To some was a day when all could grieve
Those some are the last of the naive

There left the orchestra the doctors the saints
They left the city of constraints
For a life of complaints

When the world lost the innocents
There was no need to rhyme
No use of rhythm or lines
The world stopped turning

We sat while we reflected
None of the hits were deflected
It's what only I expected