Something is going wrong

With the singer and the song

And the music isn’t gentle anymore

There’s a mist across the moon

And the sun’s too hot at noon

And the house is dark behind the broken door

Where the flowers used to grow

With their leaves are hanging low

And the constant shadow lies across the floor

There’s a strange and empty sky

Where the wild birds used to fly

And I never tasted bitter rain before



And will the grass be gone from underneath the sky

Will the golden flower wither soon and die

Will the fire burn out the land

And the sea fill-up with sand

Will the last word ever spoken be why?

Will the last word ever spoken be why?



Someone’s lost the plan

For the brotherhood of man

And no one’s trying to find it anymore

And the winds become a sigh

For those who hate and those who die

And the waves are black and slow along the shore



And will the grass be gone from underneath the sky

Will the golden flower wither soon and die

Will the fire burn out the land

And the sea fill-up with sand

Will the last word ever spoken be why?

Will the last word ever spoken be why, why, why?

Will the last word ever spoken be ….WHY?