Many are the days that pass you by
The dark horse is there 'tis he you must ride
You will ride in the light of old moldy tears
But black is the color of your solitude

You speak to be seen, you shout to be heard
But an echo of light is all that returns

The echo comes in and you rise to its joy
But then it fades out and returns to the void

Then someone will come and share in your life
Who'll hear with your ears and see with your sight
Your life is restored your thoughts are renewed
But black is still the color of all solitude