Just when I thought the world got a little brighter,
the dark clouds got slightly lighter,
the whistling air got some how softer,
the trembling earth a bit quieter,
you threw me a punch right into my face ...
One, two, who would have thought it'll be you?
Three, four, I reach for the door.
Five, six, I start to feel sick.
Seven, eight, I know it's too late.
Nine, ten, on the floor I land.
How long does it take to learn,
that one could only get scaled and burnt.
There is no exception in this prediction,
that time can heal and change the conclusion.
Taking a face-punch straight in the face ...
