You ask what is the quality of life? Seeking to justify the part you play And hide, fearing it incomplete, to try To make it any more or less than short and sweet
But short, short is from you to me, as close As we are wont to try to make it be We're caught watching the dark in the sky, who knows? Helpless as time itself to hold the time of day
And you, you are a fantasy, a view From where you'd like to think the world should see Be true and you will likely find a few Building a vision new and justice to our time
And we, we, the immoral men, we dare Naked and fearless in the elements And free, carefree of tempting fate, aware And holding off the moral nightmare at the gates
And sweet, sweet as a mountain stream, we'll look Toward a new day breaking in the east We'll meet as every future dream unfolds And surely quality that is the very least