We live in our own world,
A world that is too small
For you to stoop and enter
Even on hands and knees.
A world where we dance, where we play,
Where life is still asleep
Enclosed in a warm cocoon.
I am afraid.
That we will soon wear black suits with black ties
And walk about smiling,
Saying "Good morning Sir" and "Good morning Mam"
To grown-up people on the streets
What if we can never play
Red Indian or tea party anymore?
What if the rain wouldn't fall?
And the sky – what if the sky
Would never be blue again?