Just another day
In another way
Keep on going on
Till its all gone
I wake up another day
Put on another face
Tears gone today
Try to keep on going
Reasons ever going
People ever lying
People ever dying
I lingered round them, under that benign sky: watched the moths fluttering among the heath and harebells, listened to the soft wind breathing through the grass, and wondered how any one could ever imagine unquiet slumbers for the sleepers in that quiet earth. — Emily Bronte, Wuthering Heights