We were facing the sun, waiting for these things to come.

We're smiling high, watching the good things passing by.

Pretend to be feeling fine, but inside we're crying sometimes,

it ain't what it seems; nothing but a dream.

And the faces get void and the lights are 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 are never supposed to win, or even to achieve.

Fritz Kalkbrenner - Facing The Sun