Words & Music by Mike Power

It feels like it’s already over, doesn’t it?
I know it does to me.
The sun still rises in the east, of course, but that’s all it does.
It does not warm or illuminate.
It does not sing a merry morning song.
It badgers and blisters, then stays above the fray.

I didn’t think the end would feel like this.
I thought there would be more noise and tears,
instead of all this emptiness.