Connemara Stone Company Hard Times
Dark Clouds are drifting low -beyond a gloomy sky.
An icy wind is sweeping snow -hard times for a butterfly.
Above the desert glows an angry sun -sending lethal
burning power.
Spiteful scorpions on the run -hard times for a flower.
Every day a disabled start -every night a suicid.
Every moment a broken heart -every minute a voice forever
quite.
Wasted dreams on a one-way road - spoilt days in a dirty
hole
A voiceless cry from a strangled throat – hard times for
tender soul.
Tortured bodies in slavery -locked-up minds in a prison-
cell.
Starving children in poverty -hard times for the liberty-
bell.
Every day a disabled start -every night a suicid.
Every moment a broken heart -every minute a voice forever
quite.
