There is missing and there is missing
There is longing and there is longing
There is loss and there is loss
There is bright light in abundance
And there is hope
Yes, always there is hope
There is doubt
Doubt and the depth of deep delusion
There is also a music
A music though which for some does not sing
There is all of this, in one singular lifetime
But I ask you to believe me
There is hope, there is always hope
There is the sacred
And there is the purple tint profane
There is the blinding truth
And then there is the other game
There is the obtuse, and the downright barmy
But there is hope
And hope lives on, lives on in our name
There is hard work
And there are easier pickings
Some days they may seem to be the same
The toil of honest labour
Or the rolling of the winning dice
For there is hope
And hope is so so happy that you came
There is breath
And there is contemplative breathing
There is meditation
Instead of going to the football
There is a nearness
And a further distance still to fall
But there is hope
Hope which asks that we make the call
There is skin
And there is fabric
And there is skin
There are the living
And the heavenly ethereal bodies
There are shrouded myths
And the legends of the soul
There is hope
Hope which asks that we make the call
