When the door you're looking up to close,
And it seems as if all hope lose,
Even your people all leave you alone,
While poverty almost eat you to bone.
You're shouting on your loudest tone,
But none to help you out of that danger zone,
Making you to be doubting that old crone,
Give up not, just gather all those stones,
Use it to build an eternal hope.
A man with God won't feel lone,
You can hear the sea if you stand quite still,
Just pray to your Lord for ceaseless grace,
And for your breathe, to breath more,
And to leave longer than you live,
To see the brighter expected future.